Human
by SorceressSupreme
Summary: Bruce Banner has to team up with Dr. Stephen Strange and Natasha Romanoff to stop his greatest foe. SHIELD captures the Sorcerer Supreme, while Agent Black Widow sets out to rescue Banner from Ross's clutches. Will a romance develop between the hulking physicist and the master assassin? Is it possible? And Tony Stark/Iron Man will make a presentation later on
1. Monster or Man?

**A/N: This story is the fruit of the combined efforts of myself and my good friend miss ANimATioN ImAgInAtIoN. Hope you fellow readers and writers enjoy :D**

**(one more thing, she is the Banner expert here:)**

* * *

The physicist circled the open space with his head bowed low, cool wind tossing through his loose curls. Nothing felt right anymore, borderline numb to the brisk chill in the air. He scoffed when contemplating an option, one that had to be what? His seventh attempt? He shook his head, too dizzy to think clearly. He placed one foot in front of the other, pacing along the open field in the late afternoon.

… 

It only took a moment for the Sorcerer Supreme to find the location of his friend and part-time compatriot Bruce Banner. Stephen had been meaning to search him out for some time actually, yet had only now found the means and the time to do so. Now that the opportunity was within his grasp, he did not intend to lose it. Within moments a portal had been opened and Stephen stepped through into what looked to be a different world from that of the familiar New York skyline. He spotted Banner almost immediately, the dark-haired man pacing back and forth a ways off.

"Dr. Banner!" he hailed, calling the physicist to his attention.

Banner's eyes flicked upward, hearing his name being called from a few feet away. His hands remained in his pockets while he squinted to make use of his natural far-sighted vision. His heartbeat steadied after making sense of the figure, putting a name to the friendly face. 

"Dr. Strange."

"Old habits die hard, don't they Banner?" Stephen asked softly, taking note of the physicist's pale complexion and famished features. "Tell me, what were you thinking just now?"

Yes, Stephen was being cryptic as always, but surely by now Banner had come to expect that. Though in truth Bruce didn't need to tell him his thoughts, for with the aid of the golden amulet that Stephen carried upon his person, he was able to see a person's innermost feelings. Thus, he knew of and was quite familiar with the physicist's suicidal tendencies, but he wanted to draw the words out of the man himself.

Bruce lowered his head, smirking nervously, not surprised over the instincts of his mysterious companion. His fingers traced lightly over the pistol within his pocket, clutching onto the cold metal while he tried sifting through his emotions. He shrugged before responding, almost bitter in his sarcasm, "You tell me, you're the sorcerer."

Stephen gave Bruce a look of scrutiny, gauging his next words. "Very well then. You are once again tired of your lot in life, and you are debating over pulling the trigger on that gun in your pocket. Which you and I both know won't work."

Stephen cast his gaze about his surroundings, taking in the sight of rolling hills and the glint of mountains peaking the horizon. He drew his overcoat closer against himself as a cool mountain breeze swept over the hillside. Banner seemed unfazed by the chill.

"And since you know that suicide is historically not the best option, I'm here to see what else you've got planned."

"So you're here for a show? Well exploding won't do me any good. Why don't you go pop up on someone else for a change and give them a taste of your fortune cookies. Someplace warmer... you look cold."

Bruce lifted his hand in an attempted gesture before letting it fall, his breath quickening as he glanced over his shoulder, "Never tried jumping in the river."

Stephen smirked, the sarcastic undercurrent to Banner's words not bothering him in the least.

"No, bringing forth the Hulk was not exactly my idea. And I'm not going anywhere Bruce. I'm not your enemy, you know that." Stephen glanced towards the river, his brow creasing in thought. "And, in point of fact, if you jump in there someone will inevitably pull you out."

He turned back to Banner, giving him a hard look. This conversation was growing stagnant, so Stephen would have to find a way to spur it into smoother waters. How to do so remained the question.

The physicist returned the stare, huffing out a laugh after a moment in thought. He knew he wasn't going to get very far with Strange on his tail. His attempt would have to wait. 

Bruce shrugged, "Then, 'friend'. Is there anything I can do for you while you're currently on my side of the globe?"

Strange glared Bruce right in the eyes, his penetrating gaze cold as ice. "You can tell me of you adventures Banner," he said after a moment. He gestured for Bruce to join him as he made himself comfortable by sitting cross-legged on the cool grass of the sloping hill.

Bruce rolled his eyes almost sarcastically, pacing a bit more before settling beside him. He rested his elbows on his knees, arms extended in front of him. 

"Sorry Stephen, it's been a long day and I don't want to discuss it. How've you been?"

Stephen shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, a smirk tugging on his features as he thought of how they must look right now, like two boys playing in the grass. He almost laughed, but knew that now was certainly not the moment for it.

"I've been busy, mostly. Doing my best to keep SHIELD off my back, they're persistent bastards I'll give you that." It was somewhat hard to keep the note of disdain from his voice. "Stark's been pestering me again," Stephen glanced at Bruce out of the corner of his eye, watching for a reaction. "I think he's lonely."

Bruce nodded in agreement over his comment about SHIELD, afraid to make a replying comment about the organization. Heaven forbid he was currently being watched. 

The physicist huffed out a laugh, remaining cold and sarcastic, wanting to keep his emotions guarded in front of the sorcerer. 

"Neither you nor Stark can comprehend the definition of lonely. Try dodging the government for 20 years while you circle the globe, that's lonely."

"All too true my friend," Stephen sighed in agreement, laying back into the grass with his hands propped behind his neck, completely at ease in this place. "I'm sure you've seen some amazing sights though," he murmured. "So, tell me, do you know where in the world we are right now?"

"Southern Wales, Europe. You sound like me, traveling to anywhere without looking at a map first. And you look comfortable." 

Bruce bit at the edge of his fingernail, still agitated over his stirring emotions. His muscles stayed tense, watching his friend through his peripheral vision.

Stephen laughed. "I am. What's not to enjoy? It's a nice day out, the sun's shining... Why not sit back and relax, enjoy the view for once? It's not always going to be there for us. Unfortunately," he sighed.

The skin at the back of his neck prickled, a feeling of suspicious wariness washing over him. They were not alone.

Stephen jerked up into a sitting position, quickly casting a spell to reveal to him what it was that plagued this place. Several knee-high creatures, completely hairless with leathery bone-white skin, were scattered about on the grassy hillock, casting leery gazes at the two men. Stephen inwardly groaned. Normally these pests were beneath his notice, but from what he knew of the creatures they would have to be dealt with shortly. The lesser demons fed purely off of anger, of which Stephen's compatriot harbored rather a lot of. If they got their talons into Banner things here would not be ending well.

Stephen stood up, his red cloak whisking about him. "I think it would be conducive in this moment if we left the vicinity, my friend. We are not in benign company."

Unfortunately, Banner did not have the second sight as Stephen did, and was therefore blissfully blind to the creatures nearing him.

Bruce lifted his eyebrows suspiciously, finding slight amusement in the way Stephen just stood up like that and carried himself.

"I don't know whether to laugh at you or question you but you look dead serious. Aghh!"

Bruce jumped over an unidentified prodding in his lower back. His gaze narrowed, well aware of Stephen's gifts and abilities, mistakenly blaming him for the discomfort. "Alright what's the joke?"

"Dammit," Stephen grumbled, sending a blast of electric energy at the demon that had touched Bruce. The animal skittered back, hissing and baring its fangs at the barrage. Otherwise it was not fazed.

"Banner you need to move!"

Attracted to the excitement, more and more creatures were appearing, faster than Stephen could fend them off. Dimly he could sense Banner's growing agitation and he prayed that he'd be able to exterminate this rabble before having to deal with the impending hulk-out.

Bruce did as he was told, more agitated over the constant pricking around his body, his head throbbing consistently as his pupil's dilated. He moved in the opposite direction from his latest attack, coming from his invisible antagonists. 

"Move where?! What are you electrocuting?!" 

Bruce took a deep breath through his pounding heartbeat, trying in vain to calculate the location of his latest attack to sway him away. His voice deepened to an inhuman growl out of an overwhelming amount of disgust and frustration. 

"Stephen... I'm going to lose it... Run."

Too late. Stephen was losing time, and fast. Out of desperation Stephen ripped out his amulet, the Eye of Agomotto, and recalled the ancient words to mind.

"Banner! Banner, can you hear me? I need you to close. Your. Eyes." Whether or not the man had heard Stephen was incapable of deducing at this time. The next moment the words had been uttered and bright blinding light burst forth from the amulet. Tendrils shot out, consuming the demonic creatures that littered the area. They were all gone up in a puff of smoke in only two seconds. Stephen closed the amulet and the blinding light dispersed. The power he'd used though left Stephen temporarily drained. He staggered back, gaze searching fervently for Banner, or what was left of him.

Banner had heeded the sorcerer's warning, despite being lost in his own agony amidst a transformation. Hulk's eyes flicked towards Strange, the orbs bright green to match his tainted skin. His large muscles tensed over his massive stature. The Hulk's head ached, flooded with adrenaline and incapable of making sense of anything. He growled, bitter over his failed attempt at ending his own life and angry over everything he'd been through. The green giant charged towards his nearest victim, the only one he could see as being the cause of his pain regardless of the truth.

"Shield of the Seraphim!" Stephen cried, a luminescent blue force field forming around him as he spoke the words. The Hulk charged straight into it, the force of his attack causing Stephen's shield to waver. The sorcerer gritted his teeth, unsure of how long he could stay in this position. Not for as long as the rage monster held sway over Banner's psyche, that was for certain.

An idea came to him, and just as soon as it did Stephen executed it. The air swallowed him up, leaving no traces of the sorcerer or the blue shield that had been there only moments before.

Stephen reappeared several yards away, to the right of the Hulk.

"You want me, come and get me!" he challenged.

The green giant accepted his dare, roars echoing through the fields as he charged forward. His fists thrashed around in search of the disappearing and reappearing sorcerer. The Hulk's temper flared over his apparent failure to reach him, his emerald eyes dark and narrow.

"Ungh, you know, this is actually sort of fun for me," Stephen said conversationally, voice grinding the syllables under the mental stress he was put under. He was standing with feet apart, hands raised in front of him with a spell of resistance holding the raging monster back. Sweat trickled down his brow. The effort was nearly killing him.

Stephen had disposed of the shield, opting for more conventional uses of magic, such as distracting the Hulk by means of will-o'-the-wisps. He even had the beast wrestle with a tree all for the sake of exhausting the Hulk and hopefully rendering him back to his human form.

In another time, another reality, Stephen's hands would have been broken, crushed between those oversized green fists. But not this time. Those other realities held no sway over the happenings of today. It was fortunate that it was just the two of them there, no other place of civilization nearby for the Hulk to go and wreak his havoc upon. As long as Stephen's energy held out, he could keep the monster at bay.

Hulk roared and carried on in his tantrum as he exhausted himself chasing after Stephens's distractions. He panted, eyeing his victim from a distance, too tired to chase him. He stomped his foot, growling discontentedly. 

"Hulk angry!"

At this point, Stephen himself was too exhausted to even muster a laugh. "I'm sure you are. Care to tell me why it is you're so angry?"

The rage monster roared in reply, his fists balling up in rage. Green muscles bunched up, the skin stretched taut over his enormous frame, as the Hulk bore down on Stephen.

"I guess not."

The giant screamed in agitation over Stephen's comments. His muscular hand wrapped tightly around the man's leg, thrashing the friend of his alter ego into the ground out of pure frustration.

The blow took Stephen by surprise, the sorcerer not taking into account how fast the Hulk could move despite his sheer size and weight. He landed a few feet away, sprawled flat on his back, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs. Stephen lay there, blinking back the blackness that threatened to consume him, and took slow shallow breaths to clear his mind.

He propped himself on his elbow in an attempt to pull himself up, but an agonizing twinge in his right shoulderblade brought him back to the ground. This wasn't good at all.

Hardly able to move his right arm, Stephen had to settle for his lesser hand to deflect the Hulk and keep the monster at bay.

"Come on Banner," he growled, the pain in his shoulder radiating outwards causing him to grit his teeth.

Perhaps he could use a spell to force the Hulk back into Banner's psyche? The idea seemed plausible, but far too dangerous for the physicist's shattered mind. To do so would cause greater harm than good at this point.

The Hulk was bearing down on him. Stephen could hardly move and was therefore vulnerable to the impending attack. With the loss of his right arm's abilities he'd have to think fast or else this encounter might spell the end for the sorcerer.

Stephen jerked himself up, leaning on his right arm, the action causing a yelp of pain to rip through him. He then raised his left hand and sent a spell of Calming over the approaching Hulk. The enchantment swirled about the beast's head, invisible to his eyes though it was evident that the beast was already feeling the effects of the spell. The creature's steps began to slow.

Hulk's eyes closed over Stephen's maneuver, dizzy in his attempt to charge after the sorcerer. His green orbs cracked open, heartbeat slowing in his calm state as if he could begin to make sense of his surroundings. Hulk tilted his head, childlike and innocent when he saw Strange, the only visible individual to blame for his explosion.

"Man hurt puny Bruce. Make hulk mad!"

Stephen paused in his ceaseless spell-casting, taking a moment to catch his breath. "No Hulk," he said softly, still urging calmness into his friend. "It wasn't me that hurt you. There were other things, creatures you could not see, that were harming Banner. Forgive me, I suppose I should have been a little more clear about that. The danger has passed now, why don't you take a rest?"

Stephen cringed slightly, hoping that his words would not offend the rage monster further. This fight had left him spent and he could not go on for much longer without a cease-fire.

Hulk thought over his words, keeping eye contact to ensure the man's honesty. From his minimal recollection Stephen seemed to be a friend rather than a foe. The green giant exhaled a deep breath, looking around for any more lurking danger before resting on his fists to stay balanced.

The Hulk appeared to be calmer now, though Stephen erred more on the side of caution and kept the allure of Calm about the creature. Sighing heavily, Stephen collapsed back to the ground, his right arm unable to support him further. He cocked his head towards the green giant, a lazy smirk crossing his features.

"See? I'm your friend. No hard feelings right?"

The giant grunted with approval with his eyes transfixed on his companion. His sharp focus narrowed over Stephen's collapsing, still mulling over what had recently transpired.

"Friend tired?"

The hulk blushed shamefully, head lowering when he thought about what he had done to Dr. Strange. Guilt spread over his features, avoiding eye contact when he mumbled, "Hulk sorry."

Stephen grunted noncommittally. "You're forgiven. Say, would it be too much trouble if I could speak with Banner again? I'd very much like to."

He felt a slight pang of guilt asking the Hulk that, knowing that all too often the beast was locked within Banner's mind and wasn't often granted the freedom that he needed. There weren't too many people out there who dared tolerate the Hulk. Yet the sorcerer could faintly detect the sound of helicopters nearing, and if he wasn't mistaken that was probably SHIELD on its way. A fresh wave of urgency washed over him. Was there any way the Hulk could transform faster? He needed Banner and quick.

"Puny Bruce?" Hulk asked of him, sounding somewhat incredulous.

The Hulk lowered his eyebrows for a moment in contemplation, taking deep calming breaths as his muscles started to shrink. Slowly Banner's natural tan gradually replaced the green tints as the man returned to his sore frame.

"Oh thank you," Stephen murmured in relief as he observed the battered physicist return to his more human form. Summoning his strength he propped himself on his elbow, then staggered to his feet, swaying slightly. He cast his gaze to the skyline where he could see the black dots of approaching helicopters.

"Welcome back Banner," Stephen said calmly, striding over to the kneeling form of his friend. Banner's gaze flicked upwards, the brown orbs narrowed in a slight squint. "Have fun? I hate to rush you, but we've got company. SHIELD I think. It's your choice what you do." Stephen took a breath, a light breeze tossing through his dark hair. 

Stephen held out his hand towards the mulling doctor. "Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

The dark-haired physicist nodded and took his hand, visibly worn out from his latest run. Bruce cringed, unsure of what Dr. Strange had in mind.

"Yes."

"Excellent." Without a further moment's hesitation Stephen hauled Banner to his feet and drew him close, the next second the air swallowed them up as the two men disappeared from sight.

"And here is my home." Stephen released his hold on Bruce, the ache in his shoulder spasming from his rapid careless movements. The man gingerly rolled his shoulder, testing out the kinks. He couldn't move it very far without intense pain searing through his arm and upper back muscles. Damn, must be dislocated.

Banner's eyes took in the immaculate living space as he stumbled into the room. He looked tentatively back at the sorcerer, his gaze narrowing once he noticed the man's uncharacteristical shoulder movement. Bruce laid a gentle hand on Stephen's forearm to stop him from walking off.

"Hold on Stephen what's wrong with your shoulder? Are you okay?" He asked softly like the gentle doctor he was.

Stephen weighed his words carefully, not wanting to alarm the man further. Especially knowing that Bruce tended not to remember the things that transpired when the Hulk was on a rampage. However, he also knew there was no use in lying to the doctor, so he kept his answer short and simple.

"I may have dislocated my shoulder." If he could push it back into place then things would be just fine and dandy for him, he thought dryly. "Sit, make yourself comfortable doctor." Stephen gestured about the room, indicating that his home could be Banner's as well if he so chose. 

"Thank you, you're very kind."

Bruce nodded gratefully for the doctor even offering, taking a seat across from another chair. The physicist contorted his mouth, trying to wrap his mind around his current location and recall vague memories from before the hulk-out. His eyes drifted back towards Stephen's shoulder. He nodded towards it, trying to remember if his friend had struggled with it when he first showed up.

"Have a seat Strange, do you want me to look at that shoulder for you while I'm here?"

It was no use. Stephen would not be getting far with his arm in the state that it was. He gave Bruce an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I know I just told you to sit down but... yes. If you could just give my arm a yank in the right direction, when I tell you to, then it'll shift back into place." Stephen approached the doctor, grateful to have his assistance. "And, don't hesitate even if you think I'm in pain," Stephen said warningly. This was going to hurt like hell but it'd be best to get it through with as soon as possible.

The doctor nodded and got up to meet him without a second thought. His careful fingers and palm trailed over the shoulder, pulling firmly to readjust it.

"It'll be quick, just breathe." Banner instructed, himself a little nervous over possibly hurting the man further.

Bruce could feel the muscles of the generally composed man spasming slightly over his maneuver. Banner grimaced apologetically, an inch away from repositioning Stephen's arm.

"Sorry, almost there."

Stephen gritted his teeth, his muscles jerking in an unpleasant way as his arm was repositioned. He breathed slowly, in and out, willing himself not to react to the pain. Just a little more... There! The man exhaled in relief, quickly moving back out of Banner's reach to stretch out the arm. It was still sore and was more than likely bruised in places, but other than that it was much better now.

"Thank you," he nodded his head cordially at the physicist, then frowned when he finally took in the state of his guest. "If you'll give me just a moment, I can get you some clothes." Stephen was almost out the door when he turned back and said with a smirk, "That is, unless you like going around half-dressed."

He quickly disappeared before Banner could voice his reply.

Bruce shook his head, smirking slightly out of embarrassment, his eyes lowered as he held the waistband of his pants against his torso. He must've looked a wreck, his brown curls in disarray and cheeks flushed, the man craving sleep while he tried to recollect a few memories. 

His gaze lit up once Stephen returned, eager to cover himself with attire fit for a human being.

"Thanks."

"No problem." Stephen tossed the clothes to Banner, who deftly caught them in the air. He stepped out of the room to grant the man his privacy, and then once the all clear was given Stephen returned.

He took a seat in one of the armchairs, planting his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him.

"So, tell me, what's the next step Dr. Banner?" he asked cryptically.

Bruce ran his fingers through his hair and tugged lightly on his soft curls before rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Any idea what SHIELD was after?"

Stephen rubbed at his jaw thoughtfully, gaze fixed at a point beyond Banner himself. "My guess is they were after you. Once the Hulk emerged it certainly gave them a general beacon of your location, if not a clear reference point. Unless of course they were after _me_, or both of us, for obscure reasons that perhaps you and I are better off not knowing." Stephen smirked to himself, thinking of the trick he'd pulled on the agency. "They'll be having a lot of fun tonight looking for a man that's not there," he said with a chuckle.

Strange never ceased to amaze the physicist. Bruce shook his head over Stephen's cryptic nature, wringing at his fingers nervously the more he thought about his latest hulk-out.

"Did I hurt anybody?"

"Hmm... Nope." Was all the reply Stephen was going to give on the matter. "No one around to hurt. Well, you tore up a tree pretty badly, but that was partially my doing."

Stephen leaned back into his seat, tapping his fingers distractedly on the armrest. "I found the whole ordeal to be rather fun, if you'll excuse my bluntness. We should make it a regular thing," the sorcerer suggested with a grin.

"Oh... no. You sound like Stark. I don't trust '_him_'. The other guy."

Bruce shifted his focus around the room, eager to change the subject. 

"Thanks for your hospitality. I don't want to overstay my welcome," the doctor said quietly, his gaze lowered apologetically.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," Stephen responded calmly. "Would you like to see your room? It comes free of charge, complete with furniture and running facilities." Stephen hoped his dry humor would draw the man out of his shell and maybe lighten him up a bit.

Bruce thought over that offer, then nodded slightly. "That's very kind of you Stephen, thank you."

He followed Stephen out of the room, his eyes roving about the hallway and taking in the immaculate living space.

Stephen made sure that the tour was kept to a minimum, aware of his friend's exhaustion and wishing to grant him the peace and privacy of a room of his own. He stopped before a quaint oak door, which was slightly ajar, revealing the interior of the room.

"This can be your room, and you're welcome to stay as long as you like Bruce," Stephen said, gesturing inside. He cocked his head towards the shorter man, giving him a scrutinizing look. There were several questions the sorcerer would have liked to ask Banner, but he figured they'd have to wait until later.

Bruce took a step inside, keeping his hands jammed in his pockets while he looked around almost afraid to touch anything.

"It's a nice place Stephen. And thank you again for the offer. I don't want to intrude though…" Bruce's fingertips brushed over one another within his pocket, reacting out of habit. Despite what came out of his mouth, he knew he'd appreciate staying with a friend for a night or two just to clear his thoughts.

Stephen nodded in acknowledgment.

"Take yourself a rest Banner. I know you need it. When you're up and you've had some food I'd like to discuss a few things with you," he said in departure. Then he made his leave of Banner.

The dark-haired physicist glanced towards the sorcerer as he exited, breathing a sigh of relief. He was in a safe place, comfortable knowing that Stephen seemed to have everything under control. Banner fell backwards onto the mattress, his forearms held over his eyes. His body shut down soon after, despite his initial idea to just close his eyes for ten minutes or less.

Over two hours later he stirred slightly, forcing his aching frame to sit up and his eyes to reopen, taking in his surroundings again.

…

While his guest was sleeping Stephen retired to his own chambers to have a look at that shoulder wound. Once within the sanctuary of his room Stephen stripped off his shirt, having minor trouble maneuvering his right arm, and then he peered over his shoulder at the black and blue markings riddling his back and shoulderblade. Wincing at the sight, Stephen found he was somewhat shocked that it looked worse than it felt. He reached up and placed a hand over the bruised area, then applied a spell of Freezing over the sore and aching muscles. After the initial shock of cold, alleviating numbness took its place. His shoulders slumped as Stephen exhaled in relief.

He spent the remainder of his time attending to other matters of import, which included informing Wong of their guest's arrival. By the end of two hours Stephen was beginning to have a healthy concern for Banner's welfare, considering how much time the man had spent unconscious.

…

Dr. Banner stood up slowly, peering through the open door to search for his companion. His hand rested over his cheek, slightly intimidated when his eyes shifted up towards the high ceiling.

A man of Asian descent, wearing a green tunic with matching pants, appeared from the other end of the hallway.

"Good evening Dr. Banner," the man said smoothly, giving a slight bow. "My name is Wong. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the kitchen and we can get you something to eat. Forgive me, but I am unfamiliar with your preferences," Wong said, bowing his head in self-deprecation.

Bruce looked at the man kindly. "Hello. Um… no preference. I appreciate it but you don't have to. Is Dr. Strange preoccupied?"

Wong smiled at the polite nature of the tentative scientist. "No, but he made it clear that you should eat. Perhaps something could be brought to you in the study? Stephen is there if you wish to see him now."

Bruce ran a hand through his loose curls and nodded in response to Wong's suggestion. The physicist was hardly aware of his hunger pangs, more interested in getting back to his host.

"If he's not busy."

Wong simply nodded his head, then turned on his heel to lead the doctor through the various hallways. It wasn't long before the servant paused in front of the imposing double doors of the study. Wong stepped inside, clearing his throat to get Stephen's attention.

Stephen himself was standing before the fireplace, his back to them, a look of consternation etched over his angled features. Upon the entrance of the two men he looked up, a brief smile flashing across his face before he turned and strode over to greet them.

"Glad to see you're awake doctor," he said warmly.

Bruce grinned gratefully, his hands once more tucked into the pockets of his borrowed clothes.

"Sorry I overslept, I didn't mean to be away that long. I appreciate all of your kind hospitality. Quite a place you've got here, though I'm not exactly sure what I mean when I say 'here'. Where are we exactly?"

Stephen beckoned Bruce over to a couple chairs, taking a seat himself. He gave Wong some instructions then directed his attention back to Banner sitting across from him. "Currently we are located in New York City, and this house we are in is known as the Sanctum Sanctorum by a few, myself included." Stephen spread his hands slightly to encapsulate the length of the room. "This place is hidden from unwelcome eyes Banner. That's why I brought you here, for a place of rest and respite."

Bruce bowed his head, a dark lock of hair falling into place over his eyes as he wrung his hands out of habit. "Good to know," he said lightly, a scoffing tone to his voice.

Stephen cocked a dark brow. "Still nervous?" He'd have thought Banner would be more relaxed by now.

Bruce released a sigh. "It's nothing personal Stephen." He clasped his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. "Been up to anything interesting lately aside from randomly popping up on people?"

The sorcerer couldn't help smirking at those words.

"Well, it's funny you should ask that Banner. You see, I had a rather interesting idea…" Stephen paused, his gaze lingering on Banner's. "I'd like to start a team of my own. Something similar to the Avengers, but on a smaller scale. I was hoping you'd be interested in joining. Bruce, you'd be a valuable asset. Not just with the strength of the Hulk, but your scientific intellect would help immensely. No strings attached, I promise," His grey eyes searched the gaze of his withdrawn companion. "What do you say?"

Bruce froze in discomfort at Strange's proposition, his jaw clenching and his tongue rolling over his inner cheek.

"I suppose I should thank you for the offer… Stephen I'm not- Look you're my friend, and I have no problem helping you in any way I can… And I speak for the 'other guy' on that. But I really don't think it's safe."

Stephen kept his features even, though inwardly he felt the tide of disappointment rising up. "Can I ask you a question, if it's not too personal? … Why did you leave the Avengers in the first place?"

The team had been his home, they were like family to him. Stephen didn't understand why someone who'd been hunted all his life would want to leave all that. He wanted to get to the root of the matter before he stumbled over the same mistakes others had already made. A part of him feared that he'd already done so.

Banner waited for him to finish before lowering his gaze, his fist clenching slightly. "Some people use their talents and gifts for good, but mine is a curse. It's a curse I can't control. I'd end up causing more trouble than anything else."

He stood up, breathing altering slightly as his pitch got more strained. "I don't belong here or anywhere else… care to tell me how I can get out of this magic box?"

"Bruce, please! I don't understand, I just want to help…" Stephen faltered, for once at a loss for words. "You're my friend, and I try to do what I can for my friends even when they don't want it. I'm sorry that what I said offended you," he said fervently, certain now that his friend was about to walk out the door.

Bruce exhaled a heavy sigh, his eyes softening slightly. He gnawed at his cheek for a moment while his mind ran away from him, vivid snippets of recent memories slowly making their way back to him. He frowned.

"Stephen I want an honest answer, is the Hulk responsible for your injury?"

Stephen flinched, the query completely taking him by surprise. He wanted an honest answer did he? Stephen did not think the honest answer of it was what Banner needed right now, but who was he to deny him the truth? Fair enough, Stephen surmised within himself, exhaling a soft sigh.

"…Yes."

Bruce lifted an eyebrow, eager to prove his point to his friend. "And it could have been worse," he said, scoffing.

The physicist sighed and shook his head, his loose curls dislodging from their slicked back position. Bruce hesitated before reestablishing guilty eye contact with the man across from him. "I'm sorry. Does it hurt badly?"

Subconsciously Stephen rolled his shoulder a bit, the attention making him more acutely aware of the discomfort he felt.

"No," he replied rigidly. His pain was his and his alone, why trouble Banner with it anyways? What did it matter to him? Stephen felt something akin to indignation rise up over Bruce's question. It would be better if the man let sleeping dogs lie.

Bruce contorted his mouth over Stephen's response. He raised his eyebrows and nodded, lifting his hands in way of surrender.

"Alright, it's alright just relax," he said in calming tones. He took a deep breath and tried to settle back down. Hulk always got pissed when Stephen was around. Why? Bruce couldn't fathom it.

"Are we at an impasse?" Stephen asked dryly, hoping that the doctor had ceased in his wild ideas of running off.

Bruce nodded in agreement with Stephen's comment, settling back down in his seat. He took deep breaths in effort to calm his heart from the initial adrenaline rush.

"Yeah, I guess."

At that moment Wong returned, carrying with him two bowls of a delicious smelling stew, which he handed to the two men and then departed without another word. Awkward silence ensued. Stephen cupped the warm bowl of stew in his hands, a frown flitting across his features as the soup elicited painful memories of another time, another place. Deciding he wasn't really hungry, Stephen set the dish aside and glanced back at Banner.

"Have some, you look famished," he suggested kindly.

The physicist nodded politely and took a spoonful of the vegetables, pushing aside the meat. He remembered that he hadn't eaten for several days only after taking his first bite.

"Thanks, I appreciate it, I am a little hungry," Bruce said sheepishly, eyeing his friend. He was curious as to why he seemed to avoid Wong's meal.

After Bruce had eaten some, Stephen broached his next question. "Well, now that things have calmed down somewhat, how long would you like to stay? Surely more than a few days."

Banner sighed, feeling guilty for being there as long as he had been already. But Bruce couldn't deny he could use a break for once, and the kind sorcerer seemed to have him in a safe location.

"Could I stay for a week? You've been so hospitable, I just don't want to be a burden though."

Stephen shook his head, grinning in amusement. "As I said before doctor, that simply isn't possible. Know you nothing of friendship?" The question was asked lightly, in no way accusatory.

Bruce huffed out a laugh, "You're persuasive. And aside from my experiences with Mr. Stark I can't say that I do."

There was a breath of silence. Stephen clasped his hands in front of him, then looked back up at his friend. "Then it's settled." Stephen smirked and cocked a dark brow. "Welcome to the House of Strange."


	2. The Enemy of My Enemy

Director Maria Hill strode back and forth in front of the large bay window that dominated the controls room of the Helicarrier, her jaw set and her brows furrowed in consternation. She paused in her distracted pacing when a large and assuming man dressed in military attire stepped into the room. His face looked to be in a perpetual scowl.

"General Ross, so glad you could be here today," Maria said smoothly. "I have a proposition for you that I'm sure you'll be interested in."

That's it, dangle the bait, give him a little tease, then yank it back out of his reach. Play it well Maria, you can do this. Ross is just like any other man. And a man like this, with military services to back him up, could serve her purposes well.

The general nodded almost suspiciously, abrupt and borderline cold in his tone. "And what's your proposition Director Hill? My time is limited so better make this quick."

Hill smirked, the action looking rather cold and serpentine on her sharp features. "To make it brief, SHIELD is after a someone known as Dr. Stephen Strange, a man who has certain… abilities that have enabled him to keep off of SHIELD's radar for some time now." She narrowed her cool gaze on General Ross. "I don't trust him. Frankly, I don't trust any of these so-called superheroes. They're out of control. Nick Fury's mistake was in letting them have free rein, and that turned out to be his downfall. I don't intend to make the same mistake as my predecessor. I want SHIELD to step in and get tabs on all these freelance heroes, get all their personal information and get them working for SHIELD or they're outta the game." The woman made a slicing motion through the air, emphasizing her determination for these plans.

Ross grunted, looking less than pleased with the information she'd provided him. "And just what does that have to do with me?"

"Sir, we recently tracked down the Hulk to an isolated location in Southern Wales, Europe." Hill couldn't avoid noticing the way the general's eyes lit up in interest at the mention of his long-time enemy. "We would have had him brought back here for containment and questioning, but we ran into a slight problem."

Clicking a button on the controls desk, Hill gestured towards the computer screen as an image appeared, revealing a tall dark-haired man reaching out a hand to the crouching figure of Banner. A series of quick snapshots, some clear and some more than a little blurred, passed over the screen. The last photo depicted the two men in a near embrace as their figures were literally _fading_ from sight.

Ross's chest lifted as he breathed deeply, his intakes heavier than usual just over hearing the name of his most hated enemy. "Wales? Banner was in Wales? …And I'll assume that your problem…" His gaze flicked to the image frozen onscreen. "Has to do with this Strange individual?"

The general lifted an eyebrow, somewhat intrigued by these so-called abilities Hill had mentioned, the instincts of a long power-hungry individual alerting his interest.

Hill nodded in response to Ross's query. "Yes. Strange is indeed our problem. The two disappeared from sight shortly after our helicopters arrived on the scene. Due to what we know of their relations with one another, we have reason to believe that Banner is taking sanctuary with Dr. Strange." She paused a moment to give General Ross the time to digest this news. "As the director of SHIELD I am asking you for military aid and assistance, in order to track down and capture Strange. He's officially wanted by the government to come in for questioning, and so far he's managed to avoid doing so. He's earned no more free passes. I want the man in SHIELD lockdown as soon as possible. And as for Banner, in return for your services you can take him to your army base for containment. Working together we can kill two birds with one stone."

Ross contemplated her offer, his jaw tight and brows furrowed as he thought it over. "Hill, if you can swear to me that you're as honest about your bargains as you appear to be, then it's a done deal."

Without missing a beat Hill was quick to reply with, "You have my word Ross. You help me bag Banner and his so-called friend, the Hulk is all yours."

"It's done then. I'll have my men on this right away. Any idea where this 'Strange' is located?"

This was the tough part, the little speed bump in Hill's master plan. She hesitated, briefly mulling over her options.

"The doctor's place of residence has been traced to a location in Manhattan, however, I'm not willing to risk civilian casualties by knocking on his front door. My idea would be to lure them out in the open and somewhere away from the city."

The general nodded, chiming in that he could've cut her off mid-sentence had she anything more to say. Somewhat cold and agitated he mumbled, "Casualties are inevitable Hill, it's a brutal business. And if Banner even sees me I know full well he'll be gone. Can your technological crew submit a false alarm that'll draw them out?"

Hill raised an eyebrow, replying dryly. "I believe so. Give me a time and a place on where to put the bait and I'll let you know when your troops can move in."

Satisfied with her solution, Ross nodded over her proposal. "Very well. You've got yourself a deal Miss Hill."


	3. Captured

**A/N: The beginning of this chapter hints at elements of my other fanfiction, Just A Dream. This just outlines a situation in which my OC character is removed from Stephen's life, but obviously he still misses her. Once again, huge thank you to Animation Imagination for the help on Bruce and later another character of whom I'm sure you will all be happy to see introduced. Hope ya'll enjoy!**

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The sorcerer stood in the quaint kitchen, bright morning sunlight streaming in through the open windows. He watched in grave silence, completely invisible to the one he loved most. The golden-haired, amber-eyed woman had her back to him, busy as she was with preparing breakfast for the family she'd come to raise. His heart ached in his chest, knowing what he'd lost, what he'd given up, to see this woman safe and sound. She would never remember him, never see his face again and know the love he had for her.

Perhaps sensing a presence, the woman turned, a smile lighting up her features. For a moment Stephen's heart stopped, for that was _his_ smile, the smile she used to give him that was his and his alone…

Could she see him?

Then the breathtaking moment passed as a body passed through him, as another man, this one made of flesh and bone, entered the room. No, the smile had been for that man, this, her husband, Stephen thought with a pang. How he wished… how he wished things would have been different, that he could be the one who held and cherished the woman before him. Things _should_ have been different. But all that was taken away from him and he could never go back, because of the decision he'd made. There was no way Stephen could change the course of this reality.

The man swept his wife up in his arms, planting kisses on her cheek and lips. Stephen couldn't bear to watch anymore.

"Take care of her for me… please, take care of her," he whispered, giving the woman he loved one last lingering gaze before departing for the Sanctum.

Stephen returned to his body, which was slumped over on the desk in his private study. The feel of hard wood against his face and arms registered first in his mind as he came to. Dimly he noted Banner's uncharacteristic entrance and he hoped the man wouldn't be perturbed by the state the sorcerer appeared to be in. To Banner's eyes Stephen's astral return would simply look like the action of waking up, nothing more, nothing less.

"I'm not sleeping," Stephen mumbled upon 'waking'. He rubbed the tiredness from his eyes, briefly wondering when the last time he'd slept was. His thoughts hazy and somewhat hard to focus on, he surmised that perhaps it'd been for too long since he'd last had some real sleep. Stephen forced himself to sit up and look his guest in the eyes.

Bruce couldn't help but shake his head over the behavior of his friend. It was obvious he was tired so why try and hide it?

"Right, sure Stephen," Bruce remarked dryly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he lightly surveyed his surroundings.

Banner's head stayed low when he entered the room, clearly lost in thought. Strange had been a generous host and a true friend for the past week, caring for his physical needs and making attempts to open up the withdrawn physicist and assist him emotionally. Bruce felt too far gone for help, however he couldn't deny that he was in lighter spirits than he had been , which for him was a major achievement. Bruce took another step towards Strange.

"If you're still tired you don't have to get up Stephen," he said quietly.

Stephen was silent a moment as he attempted to clear his tattered thoughts, though the memory of his most recent outing still remained clear in his mind. "No, I'm not tired. Sorry. I know it looked like… anyways," he sighed, standing up and coming around the side of the desk to meet Banner. "Did you need something?" He didn't mean to sound brisk but unfortunately that's how it came out.

Bruce lowered his brows slightly, assuming Stephen was still groggy from sleep. "No I'm fine, thanks. Just wanted to thank you for all you've done for me this past week, I appreciate it."

"Well you know I'm always glad to help," Stephen paused, his gaze searching that of his brown-eyed companion's. "I take it this is goodbye? I confess I'll be sad to see you go."

Bruce smirked, a dark lock of hair falling over his eyes. "It's nice of you to say that, but yes I should go. Thanks for everything. I owe you Strange."

He hesitantly held out a hand, generally not a fan of contact but Stephen was his friend and a terse goodbye would hardly suffice.

"You owe me nothing my friend," Stephen said, taking Bruce's offer and giving him a firm handshake. He truly was sorry to see the man leaving, heading back out into a world that bore no warmth or kindness for him. Banner deserved so much more. Stephen only wished he could have provided that for him. "Where will you go? I can get you past the border if you like."

Bruce smiled almost nervously as he mumbled, "I don't know what I need… I should be alright… I mean, unless you want to…" Bruce knew that despite his urgency to leave, he still craved a few more minutes of human company, knowing that he'd be alone again within the next few hours to fend for himself.

"I couldn't think of anything better to do. Shall I take you to the southern or the northern border then?" Stephen was able to curb his exhaustion and focus on the task at hand, the prospect of adventure giving him the motivation he needed.

Bruce bore a look of contemplation as he rubbed at the back of his neck over his taut muscles. "South would probably be best," he said after a moment.

Stephen nodded. "It's done then. Anything else you'd like to grab for the journey before we head out?"

"No thank you. I'll be fine." The physicist shoved his hands back into his pockets, ready to follow the sorcerer's lead. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing to dodge any guards or potential enemies. He tried to steady his breathing in order to temporarily sedate his alter-ego.

Stephen was already weaving the spell needed to create the portal. "I'm going to take you to a point just beyond the border of New Mexico, alright?" he waited for Bruce's permission before eliciting the spell of transport. A second later Stephen opened his eyes to the shimmering heat of the desert, the hot sun burning high overhead in the clear cerulean sky.

Banner took a moment readjusting to his surroundings, the fonder memories of his old home blurring with the darker ones. He smirked, running a hand through his hair before glancing around, mentally planning out his retreat.

"Thanks for everything Stephen. You got a spell or something to get yourself back?"

Stephen lifted an eyebrow, giving Bruce a dubious look. "Of course I do." He nodded in a general direction towards the western horizon, saying, "There's a small town not too far from here. Perhaps 5 or 6 miles away. The people there are generally hospitable; they can provide you with food and water, shelter as well if you want it."

The sorcerer purposely failed to mention the supply of cash he'd provided the doctor with, knowing that the man would refuse it if he had foreknowledge of the provision.

Bruce nodded at the suggestion. Strange had looked out for him throughout the past week and had proved his friendship twice over, so the doctor knew he had no reason not to trust him. "That's good to know," he said with a smirk.

Stephen was about to reply with a dry comment when he spotted a figure fast approaching from the direction of the town he'd indicated. At this distance though he was unable to surmise whether the person was male or female, but whoever they were they looked to be in a hurry. That was for sure.

"Hope that's not trouble already on its way," Stephen muttered, glancing at Bruce.

Banner shrugged casually, narrowing his sharp long-distance focus as he caught sight of the familiar red-headed spy.

He shook his head, scoffing over Stephen's remark. "It could be. Depends on what she wants." His eyebrows lowered in distrust over the determined look on her face.

"She?" Stephen asked, giving Bruce a questioning look. Indeed, as the person recklessly driving the dusty beige Humvee drew nearer, it became quite evident that it was definitely a she. The driver was someone Stephen had never met before, however it was clear by Banner's ill-disguised unease over the approaching figure that he was well acquainted with her. And he didn't seem too happy about it either.

The woman slowed to a stop and parked her vehicle a few feet away. Her demeanor was calm, with a small sense of urgency reflected in her hazel orbs, which was visible now that she stood in front of the two men.

"Dr. Banner," she inclined her head towards the physicist, briefly glancing at Stephen out of the corners of her eyes.

The physicist raised his eyebrows, a slight smirk accompanying his expression. "Miss Romanoff? What brings you here, out in the middle of nowhere?"

Something was going on here, and Stephen wasn't entirely sure what that something was. Which left him frustratingly out of the loop. He took a step back, glancing between the two. Banner seemed to know the woman before them, but did that mean she was trustworthy? He nodded to Bruce, "…If you're fine here then I'll be heading out."

The red-head took a silent inhale, her plain and vague facial expression revealing nothing as she chimed in immediately after Stephen's remark. "Doctor, we've got a situation that just might require your kind of help. Mr. Stark got caught up with the wrong crowd and is currently being held captive by the criminal Anton Vanko. SHIELD is currently in the process of trying to locate the engineer. Their records are indicating a local area about 12 miles north of here. I was sent in to scope out the area, and once SHIELD caught your energy signature Dr. Strange," she nodded towards him, "They instructed me to come and ask for help in freeing him. We could certainly use a little extra muscle."

Bruce studied her cryptically, eyes widening slightly in suspicion over her story.

At the mention of Stark's captivity Stephen hesitated, indecisive over the sincerity of the woman's words. Especially since _she_ seemed to know _him_, though they'd never crossed paths before that Stephen was aware of. This sounded serious though, and SHIELD's involvement only spurred the urgency of the situation. No doubt this woman herself was an agent for the cryptic organization. Stephen narrowed his gaze at her, speaking low the warning tone evident in his speech. "If you can guarantee that SHIELD will lend safe passage to my friend here, and will not hinder him in any way, then I in turn will lend my assistance."

Stephen didn't need or require SHIELD's permission to go and help Stark. He could do that very well of his own device, with or without the government's consent. However, he was hesitant to leave Banner on his own with the organization possibly having double motives for seeking them out. And for good reason. Stephen was well aware of how SHIELD was capable of causing more harm than good, due to their involvement in past situations.

Bruce glanced towards Stephen, almost hoping for the honest and trustworthy company he would provide.

"Are you in a rush?" Natasha asked dryly, shifting her stare between the two of them. She urged Bruce to follow her with a glance over her shoulder. "There's really not much time for idle chit-chat. Dr. Banner, if you'll follow me I can take you there. I'm sure Stark would appreciate the help." The barely veiled accusation was not lost on Stephen.

Nodding and gripping his hands nervously, Bruce obeyed, choosing to trust the Black Widow right now only for Tony's sake. Stephen, however, didn't trust this woman, no matter how "friendly" she seemed to be with Banner. He felt like the woman's words were aimed to manipulate him, though a part of him didn't fully understand _why_ he felt that way. Growling, Stephen climbed into the backseat of the vehicle. No matter his dislike for SHIELD and all things related, he certainly wasn't going to leave Dr. Banner now.

Romanoff took control of the Humvee, operating it as if it were second-nature to her. Her eyes glazed over her company through her peripherals, picking up on Bruce's tension almost instantly. "It shouldn't take us long to get there. I'm going to need both of you to listen carefully once we arrive. We can't afford rash actions, or surprise _guests_ until the time is right."

The vehicle jolted as it hit a bump in the road. Stephen gave Bruce a look, almost voicing his thoughts to the physicist but then deciding against it. Romanoff? Romanoff… Where had he heard the name before? It was unsettling to Stephen that she somehow knew of him, and yet he knew next to nothing of her. SHIELD secrets, yet again.

"Can you tell us, Miss Romanoff, what exactly we're up against?" Stephen asked dryly.

Romanoff glanced back at him from the rearview mirror, her hazel stare remaining blank as she replied, "Apparently you've never encountered Whiplash. The goal is to get in and get out, and if he wants a fight that's where Banner comes in."

That hardly answered his question.

"I meant in terms of numbers," Stephen muttered. He'd like to know what kind of a fight this was going to be, rather than going in blindly and trusting SHIELD to take care of the rest. In regards to sending Banner in as the Hulk, Stephen couldn't help thinking derisively that that was one of SHIELD's worse ideas. He wondered how the physicist felt about being volunteered just like that, without foreknowledge or even preparation for the transition. It's not like the woman even took into consideration what the repercussions could be of forcing a hulkout. 'You shouldn't let them bully you like that,' Stephen mentally projected the thought to his friend. Banner said nothing, remaining quiet with his head bowed low. Stephen knew him well enough to tell that he wasn't exactly thrilled about this expedition.

Bruce took deep breaths, wringing at his fingers nervously. If he wasn't so close with Stark, Bruce knew he would've bolted in the opposite direction at first sight of the imposing red-head. He still held onto the desire of escape, still familiar with SHIELD's less than kind treatment of him in times past.

Natasha glanced at the discontented individual beside her, opening her mouth once they began to near their destination. "You've been awful quiet Banner, not even a tad of your usual sarcasm.

He scoffed, wind pushing a lock of hair over his eyebrow. "Why, you miss it?"

She responded almost immediately, her face just as unreadable as every other expression and dry comment she produced. "Just when I was beginning to think you'd improved your bedside manner." She grinned, looking more cryptic than ever. Bruce returned her grin nervously before refocusing ahead of him, anxiously chewing on his inner cheek.

When the vehicle pulled up to a battered old factory building that had clearly seen better days, Stephen wasted no time in jumping out and distancing himself from the Humvee. After years of traveling by magic or other more conventional means, the sorcerer found that travel by car was not the luxury he remembered it being. His silver gaze roved over the face of the building, searching for the subtle hints of enemy attack that others might not notice. He glanced back over his shoulder at Banner, who was just exiting the car. He then turned his cool gaze on the red-haired agent as she remained in her seat and didn't look as though she planned on moving.

Bruce stepped out alongside the sorcerer and headed into the building without a second thought. As he passed Stephen he glanced quickly towards Romanoff then refocused ahead of him, mumbling, "Come on let's get this over with."

The woman delicately arched a brow at Strange. "Better hurry, who knows what that creep Vanko is putting Stark through." At Stephen's suspicious glare she continued almost without missing a beat. "I'm going to circle 'round the building and sneak in through the back. Surely you trust me well enough to do that."

Then without another word she revved the engine and sped off around the corner. Stephen shook his head, unable to deny the feeling of unease he had about this whole affair. He stepped inside the darkened factory, eyes immediately searching out his companion, who stood a few feet away next to some abandoned crates. Faint sunlight pouring in through the grimy two-story, windows overhead was the only source of light to illumine their way.

Bruce had no idea where to start looking or even a clear initiative over what he was looking for once he entered the building. He kept his footsteps light while he searched, heartbeat somewhat steady despite his nervousness and slight anxiety. Keeping his tone low, he whispered, "Sorry Stephen, I know this is a little more than what you bargained for."

Rather than replying to Bruce's comment, the sorcerer stood completely still with his head cocked a little to the side as he listened, his gaze studying their surroundings. Other than their breathing and soft footsteps, he heard nothing. Nothing to indicate human habitation in this place. That struck him as odd, very odd indeed.

"Doesn't it seem strange that there's no one else here?" Stephen turned about, taking in the vicinity in one glance. "Bruce, we're the only ones here."

Banner lowered his eyebrows suspiciously, his heart-rate picking up rapidly when he heard Stephen's remark. Bruce ducked once he heard the sound of shattering glass, the explosive noise coming from behind them. A sharp pain pricked his neck and his vision began to swim dizzyingly before him. Numbly he pulled a dart from his neck, vaguely recognizing it as a sedative. He stumbled upon trying to gain his footing, getting groggy and slightly nauseated from the drug. He spoke as urgently as he was able in this condition, mumbling towards his friend, "Run."

When the glass broke Stephen whipped around, gaze searching frantically for the source of attack. He slowly backed up towards Banner, who was swaying slightly with his eyes glazed over. Stephen gestured for Bruce, his motions tense and stiff as every muscle in his body was flooded with adrenaline, the threat of an unseen enemy making him alert to every noise and motion around them.

"Stay close. I'm not leaving you Bruce."

In the foggy state of mind that the physicist was in he barely managed a nod before slumping to his knees. Then glass shattered again as a dart flew past Stephen's shoulder, narrowly missing the flesh of his arm. From his peripherals he could see men in uniform descending the stairs and appearing from both sides of the room.

They were surrounded, but that didn't put a dent in Stephen's plans for escape. As the first group of men neared them Stephen sent a blast of ionic energy at them that that sent the soldiers flying backwards and into the men coming behind them. Just as quickly he turned around, raising his hands in a mundra of defense, and commanded a shockwave to knock the approaching soldiers off their feet. Too fast though, they were closing in. Banner lay unconscious at his feet, at this point more of a hindrance than anything else. There were too many men for Stephen to fend off on his own though. Already he could feel the strain, the use of Mystic energy physically exhausting the man after his uninterrupted use of it.

Something sharp pricked his shoulder. Stephen turned to meet this new attacker and was met with a blow that knocked him off his feet. The sedatives from the tranquilizer were already having an effect on his mental status. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. A soldier stepped up, his features grave and reflecting a complete lack of empathy as he raised his weapon. The last thing Stephen saw was the heel of a gun, and then darkness took him.


	4. Endurance

**A/N: Readers thank you one and all. Sorry for the length in between chapters, my life has been hectic lately with graduation and college prep. Yeesh. Anyways, hope you enjoy this update and I will try to get back with you all as soon as possible :)**

**If you like this story or have a helpful comment or suggestion, your support is soooo very much appreciated in the form of reviews. Thank you.**

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Director Hill had eyes on everything. After years of fruitlessly tracking Banner and his elusive comrade Maria was hardened and experienced enough to make sure they didn't slip through SHIELD's grasp again. She took all the necessary precautions, having spies and agents positioned along every border, and keeping a radar out for the unusual Gamma or Mystical energy signatures that characterized the two individuals.

All their hard work paid off earlier that afternoon when an alarm went off over an unidentified energy burst in a deserted area south of New Mexico. This was the break they'd been waiting for. Special Ops agent Black Widow was immediately sent in, and played her part well in betraying the men to Ross and his troops.

Maria stood just within the interior of the old factory, waiting patiently for the turnout that was sure to come. SHIELD helicopters circled overhead, surveying the scene as the uniformed men swarmed the building.

General Ross stepped onto the scene, his stiff gait more of a confident swagger as he paced around the guarded area, clutching his communication device tightly in his hand. His disgust was evident in his voice as he ordered precautions to his soldiers about keeping his victim sedated. Specific instructions were given as the men cautiously entered the building, practically with their knees knocking. Ross raised his eyebrows once he caught sight of Maria. Stepping beside her he mumbled, "You did well Director Hill."

Hill snorted in derision. "I shouldn't think I'd do any less than that, _General_," she said, crossing her arms loosely. "And, I might add, your men did alright. They got the job done and that's all that matters."

Maria eyed the stiff general beside her. "Sir, if I may ask, what exactly do you plan for Banner?" As she spoke the man himself was brought up beside them, out cold and tightly cuffed to a stretcher. Hill noted the look of obsessive hatred Ross bore as he surveyed his enemy.

"The man's a threat and I don't believe he should be treated any differently from any other threat the army's encountered. I plan to eliminate him after I've run a few tests," Ross continued as though excusing his actions. "It's not everyday we confront someone with his level of intelligence and cryptic reaction to Gamma radiation."

The general refocused on his communication device, ordering his chief agent to head over. He turned towards the agent with a curt nod, referring to his officers, "Looks like we're done here."

Hill blocked the general's path, gaze cold as ice as she spoke with her tone low in warning. "You can have the Hulk General, and do whatever the hell you think you need to. But I'm warning you," she jabbed a finger at his chest. "If any of your "experiments" goes awry and ends up creating another monster, like the Abomination, SHIELD will shut you and your base down." She narrowed her gaze coldly. "Understood?"

His jaw tightened in discontent with her arrogant stance and cutting remarks. After hunting down one "monster" for as many years as he had, just the thought of an identical duplicate infuriated him. Ross nodded obediently. "Yes ma'am."

Arching a brow, Hill replied, "Very well General, you and your men are excused." The woman waited for Ross to exit with his long awaited "prize", before turning to regard the various SHIELD agents present with her. "Bring him to the Helicarrier," she commanded, jerking her head in the direction of the unconscious sorcerer. Satisfied with her endeavors, Hill rounded everyone up and had them sent straight back to base.

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Bruce's eyes slowly peeled open, his senses dulled and vision blurred from the sedatives and tranquilizing agent shot into him hours ago. His body ached, head pounding as he tried to recognize his surroundings. It didn't take long for him to realize where he was. Bruce tried breathing steadily while he waited for the explanation that was sure to come, verbal or otherwise.

A uniformed lieutenant had gone to inform Ross upon Banner's waking. Within moments the hardened general had made his way into the room where his quarry was being contained. He entered, noting in satisfaction how the man seemed to be alert and somewhat fearful of the situation he found himself in. Ross chuckled, sounding almost maniacal in his words as he said, "Welcome back to base, Banner. It's been too long really. Comfortable?" He jerked on one of the straps holding the doctor in place, eliciting a whimper of pain.

Bruce gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight, too tired and bone-weary to deal with Ross once again. He was also angry over his confinement. Hadn't he had enough of this? But what was just one more time when it came to the general?

"Your hospitality is overwhelming," he mumbled sarcastically. This was a familiar situation, one of which the doctor had had on his mind not too long ago when he'd mulled over suicide, before Strange had shown up to talk him out of the idea. Bruce lowered his brows slightly, looking for his companion. Surely Ross had taken the both of them, he thought as he tried recalling his most recent memories. He jerked his head up as far as he could, glaring at the sadistic general. "What'd you do with Strange?"

Cuffing Banner on the side of the head, Ross grunted, "I'm the one asking the questions here. You'd do well to remember it boy. What happened with your friend is no concern of mine."

Still gloating over the capture of his enemy, Ross was already making plans for the few experiments he had in store for the man before him. Nothing relative to duplicating the Hulk, he was beyond that now. But there was still so much that could be learned just from this man's blood alone. The general planned to eke out every last drop before putting Banner out of his misery.

Writhing under the heavy restraints, the physicist winced in discomfort and turned a deaf ear to the threats. Everything was hurting him, emotionally as well as physically. His eyelids drooped from a lack of proper sleep, jaw clenching in distress and anger over the sparse room that left him feeling like an animal about to be dissected. He took a deep inhale before opening his mouth again, prepared for another hit as he questioned who Ross would have teamed up with; surely he couldn't have pinned down both a Hulk and a sorcerer all on his own. His thoughts shifted to the red-haired assassin and the organization she worked for. Bruce wasn't completely surprised he'd think to question it.

"I'm assuming SHIELD sold their soul to the devil and set up the bait."

Ross bristled in irritation at the tone Banner was taking with him. "Very perceptive of you Banner. But what does it matter to you now? Before long all that'll be left of you is some irradiated blood and a memory just as smeared."

The general gave a curt command to one of his men and then turned to depart the room.

"Have a nice stay Bruce. It'll be your last."

"Ross! General!" Bruce scrambled to call him back, tugging at his restraints though he knew it was to no avail. His mouth opened in an attempted scream that came out as nothing more than a soft exhale. Dimly he felt the tubes ruthlessly being jabbed into his arms, slowly sucking the blood from his veins. The physicist's body twitched from the physical pain and the agony of being torn apart by his enemy. His heart hurt the more he considered the situation. He'd been betrayed by SHIELD, no, a member of the organization but also of a certain team of Avengers. He'd trusted her, yet again, and she'd lied. She hadn't lied just to a teammate, but to a friend. Or he'd considered them friends, up until now. Foolish thinking. He should have known better than to trust SHIELD's top spy.

His thoughts shifted to his friend as he shut his eyes, groaning from the torture he was enduring. Bruce was sick with nausea and the light-headedness that accompanied the loss of blood and the pain that came with it. He was bitter over the thought of dragging Stephen into this mess, stomach twisting over what could've possibly become of him.


	5. Fear

**A/N: In a bit of a rush right now, hope ya'll enjoy the update. thanks for reading!**

Voices. Dimly, as through water, Stephen could hear voices speaking back and forth from overhead. His thoughts hazy and somewhat confused, so he had trouble discerning what it was the voices were saying. He slowly opened his eyes, gaze narrowing as he looked about and found himself in an unfamiliar place. He was laying flat on some sort of table in what looked to be a medical facility. There was no sign of the clothes he'd been wearing earlier, all he wore now was a loose pair of sweatpants. Two people he didn't know, with bland unassuming faces, were standing over him. Apparently they had been the ones speaking, but now they wore expressions of shock and alarm as they realized their "patient" was now wide awake and very alert. Stephen's gaze locked on the needle heading for his arm and he jerked back, shoving the other doctor out of the way with one hand. He leapt off the table and backed out of the room, nervously glancing back and forth between the man and the woman in the room. Once out of there he turned and ran, his heart pounding wildly as he tried in vain to place his surroundings.

Where was he?! Stephen could still feel the after-effects of the drugs that had flooded his system not too long ago. This was beyond frustrating. All he wanted to do was find Banner and get out of here! Wherever here was. The sorcerer paused, his chest heaving as he leaned back against the wall for support. He heard shouts of alarm echoing through the maze of hallways. His pursuers were getting closer. Stephen felt like an animal being hunted down. He was lost, confused, and trapped in a maze where his foes seemed to have the upper hand. In his mind, there were only two things he could do now. He could either stay and fight, or keep running and hope he found Banner or an exit. If Banner was even here. That was certainly a possibility he was willing to consider.

Too late to make a decision now. The corridor was already being flooded with armed men bearing SHIELD's insignia. _Of course_, Stephen thought bitterly, _we were handed right to them on a silver platter_. He didn't waste any time on questions or appeals, knowing these men wouldn't listen either way.

Soldiers were closing in on him. The sorcerer responded at once by sending a blast of energy that scattered the men nearest him to the floor. Someone clamped a hand over his arm and as they did so Stephen instinctively reacted by jerking his arm back and down to free himself of their grip, and then he turned and swiftly punched the offender in the face. He stepped back, lightly surveying the scene. He had only just freed himself when another soldier got in his way, trying to block his path while leveling a gun at his chest.

Director Hill was observing from a distance, remaining undetected from the piercing gaze of the sorcerer. Maria's eyes narrowed on the escapee. Her fingers rubbed over her pistol, waving it to direct the agents beside her. Her face remained cool and aloof as she commanded the soldiers that surrounded her.

"Don't let him get much further! Tell the guards to bolt the doors." Her heart pounded, the director fearing Strange for reasons that were beyond apparent. No matter what he had in mind, she was not about to let him escape. She'd worked too hard and sacrificed too much to get him here.

Stephen had only just cleared a path to an exit, dodging fists, bullets, and various other flying objects. Abruptly, the door he was heading towards closed, stopping the sorcerer dead in his tracks. There was the sound of a bolt sliding into place on the other side of the entry. His breathing ragged, the need to escape still burning hot within him, Stephen quickly glanced over the bolted door. This, now this he could break through by sheer force. Given the time and ability to concentrate of course… Just as he raised his hands to blast through the obstruction, two sets of hands latched down on his arms and dragged him back. Stephen jerked an arm free and shoved his elbow back into a person's face. He heard a satisfying crack and then spun around and brought his knee up into another's gut.

"I need backup!"

Maria held her breath nervously, surveying in pure discontent as Strange successfully fought off his contenders. She lowered her head, watching while more agents came to assist the ones already present. She readied her pistol, firing around the facility to cause a delay and then aimed for the outraged sorcerer. She hesitated, watching the agents as they tried their best to get their hands on Strange, the others by now discharging their bullets and sedatives towards the elusive individual.

In the midst of the fight, Stephen felt the familiar prick of a needle as it hit the back of his neck. Wrenching it out and shaking his head in disgust and anger, he tossed the sedative to the side. No matter the drugs, he wasn't giving up so easily.

Soldiers just kept pouring in. Stephen managed to fend them off, but his strength was waning, his agile movements getting slower and more feeble the longer he fought. His attackers circled him like hungry wolves closing in for the kill. In his heart Stephen knew he'd lost the fight.

Director Hill stalked over, gaze sweeping over the scene in cold satisfaction as her eyes lit on Strange.

"Hold him down."

At Hill's firm and heartless orders the agents moved closer to surround him, wrestling to keep him under control. Maria took a step nearer once she was sure the mob had found ways to secure the sorcerer, rough hands finding their way onto his taut frame. The man glared right at her, his grey eyes wide with fear and anger. In that moment he truly looked like an animal, a wild thing that needed to be restrained or eliminated.

Hill narrowed her sharp focus intently on the captive. "Lock him up. I swear if he gets out again you will ALL be held accountable." She then turned to a fellow administrator, leaning her head close to keep her words at a low murmur. "Operate immediately. No more _magic_ tricks from here on out. Understood?"

The agent jerked his head in a nod and disappeared down the hallway.

Strange was losing consciousness swiftly. Black dots danced at the edges of his vision. He hung his head, too weak and disoriented to support the weight of it any longer, his dark hair falling over his features. Stephen was able to choke out one more word before blackness set in.

"Why?"

No one seemed to hear him.

…

Pain registered first. Not a sharp inflicting pain, but a low, dull ache that radiated outwards from his head to his neck and shoulders. His hands hurt too, for some reason, and they instinctively curled in on themselves as he drew them closer to his chest. Stephen's brow creased in distress, his growing consciousness making him aware that he was once again lying on a hard uncomfortable surface. His eyes cracked open, vision hazy as he took in his new surroundings. He had to blink a few times before he could see clearly, his head throbbing as he sat up slowly and rubbed a hand over his aching neck.

The room he found himself in was stark white, small with an 8 by 10 foot frame. Other than the hard makeshift "cot" he was on, the only other furniture in the room was a chair near the door, currently unoccupied. Everything was sparse, even the cot itself, which wasn't even a cot but a hard plastic surface that was actually a part of the durable wall behind him. It was all made of the same plastic that made up his prison. This he found very strange, which was saying something. What did SHIELD think to accomplish by locking him in a plastic cell? He wasn't even shackled. There was nothing to stop him from uttering a spell and disappearing from this place right on the spot. Did SHIELD really think they could contain him?

Nothing was stopping him now, except for the knowledge that Banner was around here somewhere too, most likely, and until Stephen found him or at least had an inkling of his whereabouts, the sorcerer, unfortunately, was going nowhere.

Stephen's hands gave a painful spasm and he squinted down at them, he gingerly opened his palms despite the discomfort it caused. He froze, seeing the white gauze that was taped to the centers of each palm, from which the pain radiated. His heart in his throat, Stephen gently tore at the bandages, taking care not to cause further damage to whatever had already been done.

Stitches, stained black from his blood, riddled both his palms in identical half-circles. Dried blood crusted the edges of the sutures. A shiver coursed down his spine at the sight. With hand shaking Stephen touched at the surface of his other palm, directly over the area that had been sewn over. He felt something firm give way under the pressure, then oddly spring back into place when he removed his fingertips from the area. Some sort of miniature floppy disc was in there, under the surface of his skin. Stephen flexed his hand and felt that there was more to it than he was able to fathom at this time. Checking his other hand he found it to be in the same state as the first.

What had they done to him? Stephen's heart constricted in fear as he rubbed a palm over his face, weary over the implications. He raised a hand, palm facing forward, and… nothing. Nothing happened. He was empty, drained, lifeless of magic. They had taken it from him, forcibly removed that which was his and _his_ alone.

Giving a cry of despair Stephen slammed his fists into the wall, body quivering from pent-up rage. How dare they take this from him! How could they? How?!

And more importantly, _why_?

…

Maria's shoes clicked along on the tiled floor, the sound echoing from off the empty walls as she made her way into Strange's cell. Her face remained stern and cold, eyes glassy as if she was completely unfazed by the man before her.

Stephen looked up from his hunched position on the bench/cot, with his head in his hands. His roiling thoughts were interrupted as he faced the woman in black SHIELD attire, an aloof expression over her face.

Raising a brow, Stephen asked dryly, "I don't suppose you're here to give me my 'get out of jail free' card?"

The agent rolled her eyes coldly, pacing towards the sorcerer as her icy gaze locked with his. She set her jaw and held her arms behind her back, a picture of hardened serenity.

"Don't be so melodramatic. All things considering this could have been a lot worse for the both of us Dr. Strange."

"Not much worse," Stephen muttered. "And you have yet to see melodramatic. Trust me." He casually leaned back against the wall, tilting his head back with his face a cool mask as always as he regarded the woman before him.

"A version of you I'd rather not confront personally. As for your 'getting out of jail', you can consider this cell your new home. And while you're already whining I don't suppose you'd like to file a complaint over SHIELD's accommodations?" the woman said as she circled around him slowly, sharp eyes fixed up and down his empty shell.

Stephen grunted in amusement over the way she studied him, like he was a horse she might consider buying. He arched a brow. "Well, now that you've asked I _would_ like a shirt, if it's not too much trouble. Or is this part of SHIELD's care plan for its prisoners?" He gave an idle stretch, flexing the toned muscles of his shoulders. "I would have borrowed one from your medic team but they must have conveniently forgotten," he remarked in a dry tone.

The agent froze almost imperceptibly as her gaze flicked over him once again. Shaking her head, she completely refuted his question and moved on to another subject by saying, "Dr. Strange, my name is Director Maria Hill. By now I'm assuming that you've come to the conclusion that you're being held captive by SHIELD."

The sorcerer sighed morosely, hanging his head slightly to avoid eye contact. "I have," he replied quietly, all previous sarcasm in his voice now deflated. "And what, Miss Hill, does SHIELD plan on doing with me?"

A distracting thought flitted through his mind, wondering what they'd done with Banner. Surely anything they'd done to Stephen was tame compared to what people like SHIELD did with Banner and his alter-ego. He'd heard the stories. He knew.

One question at a time though. Stephen had to take his time, and use it wisely, in order to anticipate SHIELD's plans and move two steps ahead of them. The urgency of the situation did very little to help him though. If ever there was a time when he needed help, it'd be right now.

Maria lifted an eyebrow and analyzed him with a scrutinizing stare. "As long as you're confined here at SHIELD, my advice to you is to cooperate with us accordingly." Her arms crossed over her rib cage as she lowered her head, focus narrowing. "Dr. Strange, as an agent and the Director of SHIELD I've seen the damage caused by your kind, the horrors and needless hurt that accompanies your so-called 'gifts' and mysterious abilities. Dare I ask how you managed to break loose and lead half of our agents around the facility?"

So that's what this was all about. SHIELD and it's ridiculous fears over the unknown and what they couldn't understand. They were still living in the Dark Ages as far as he was concerned. Things were beginning to fall into place, weren't they?

Stephen shrugged, almost careless in his answer as he said, "You can go ahead and ask all you want but that doesn't mean I'm going to answer. In fact, I won't be answering any questions of yours until you've answered a few of mine." He said, voice low in a tone of warning. "Where is Dr. Banner?"

Her eyes stayed fixed intently on his, she couldn't deny that slight hint of fear that he aroused within her, unfamiliar as she was with his abilities. She remained outwardly calm, her tone brooking no argument as she said, "I've always had an eye for a bargain Doctor, but you're trying my patience. Sufficient to say Banner is currently being held halfway across the country. I know nothing more than that." She clenched her jaw tightly, a nerve jumping in her cheek. "Your turn."

"You want to know how I got out?" Stephen asked, his voice deadly calm as he leaned forward to lock his gaze with hers. "I ran. And that's all there is to it." His look flitted to the door behind her. "Go on, open that door and see what happens."

Maria clutched her earpiece, using a verbal code to warn the agents outside to stay nearby.

"I doubt you'll get very far at this point but you've sparked my curiosity." She opened the door, lingering hesitantly.

Stephen froze, shock briefly registering on his features when she complied with his dare. His gaze drifted to just beyond the door. Freedom was so close… but it was just an illusion, surely. Something to be vainly grasped at only to fade away like smoke from a fire.

He stood, glancing sharply at the agent, frustratingly unable to read her vague facial expressions. Stephen edged towards the door, briefly glancing about before once again resting his gaze on the shorter woman. He hesitated just inside the doorway.

"Why are you toying with me?"

Hill smirked. "Let's be honest doctor, you bolt out that door and you'll have 70 armed men hot on your tail. Chances are you won't get very far and you'll be back in your cell 10 minutes later. Let me ask you a question, I believe it's my turn; why do you continue to run from SHIELD? You've hidden for years, dodging our attempts to track and hunt you down. Regardless of our motives I have to question what's been running through your mind all this time."

He replied with the first answer that came to mind. "Self-preservation, I guess. I don't trust you or your motives; I've seen what happens when SHIELD gets involved. They're less than kind. And I know what some people have done, take for instance the case with Dr. Banner and the unusual side-effects of his blood, how people have run amok with the power or the knowledge that they're given. So, in a sense, I'm protecting myself and others from the same kind of thing happening." His brows lowered as he spoke more gently now. "Does that satisfy you Agent Hill?"

"The only thing that could possibly satisfy me is the extermination of your entire breed." Her eyes narrowed sharply over him as she closed the door. "Have a seat Strange you're not going anywhere."

She waited and watched intently, secretly hoping for a show from this 'magician'. He'd certainly wear himself out trying to escape.

"Breed?" Stephen asked, giving her a look of incredulity. "Miss Hill I can assure you I am human, made of flesh and blood just like you. Simply because I have certain… attributes does not make me any different, more or less."

She was afraid of him, he could tell. Whether that gave him an advantage or not he would have to play carefully and see how things turned out.

"Corrupt flesh and blood. You're not like the rest of us. And speaking of your attributes, I'd be very intrigued if you could elaborate on that."

What she was talking about was genocide, pure and simple. The elimination of an entire race? Stephen shook his head in disbelief. _This_ was one of the very things he'd been referring to.

"If it's all the same Maria, I'd rather not," he answered wearily, sinking back down into the seat he'd previously occupied.

She nodded over his answer, hands and arms clasped behind her back. "Suit yourself." Her body turned away from him to head in the opposite direction.

Anger smoldered within him at her abrupt departure. He felt so powerless, so completely useless without his powers. No, that wasn't entirely true… he still had his brute strength of it came down to it. As much as Stephen hated this situation, he chose to wait and bide his time. He still needed information on Banner before he could just up and leave. Plus, he would have to find a way to get his magic back. Stephen frowned sadly, looking down at his limp hands with their cruel sutures sewn over them.

Halfway across the country…

"Until next time, Miss Hill," Stephen said quietly. For there would, inevitably, be a next time.

"You were right to fear me." He muttered.


	6. A Clearer Understanding

**A/N: Thank you RKF22 and Jotunchick11 for reading and reviewing :) yes, Stephen is quite a force to be reckoned with. Hope you all enjoy this update!**

* * *

Director Hill strode down the hallway, her head erect and shoulders stiff as she kept any unnecessary emotion masked. She stopped before a group of clustered SHIELD agents, her gaze roving over them coldly before she voiced her commands.

"Make sure he doesn't get out. Reinforce security, cycle through the guards 'round the clock. If I so much as see a hair of his head anywhere other than that cell, your necks are on the line." She jabbed a finger at the air to reiterate her words. "No one goes in there, no one even speaks to him, without my express permission first. Is that clear?"

The men and women before her nodded their assent, casting wary glances between each other over her odd behavior. Satisfied, Maria turned on her heel and left for the Command Bay.

Natasha Romanoff broke away from the group of agents, her eyes sharp and narrow as she followed Maria. Curiosity got the better of her after glancing at the cell containing Hill's victim. Natasha stepped closer, tugging down on the bottom of her top with a careless expression. "Agent Hill. Couldn't help but notice you seem a bit rattled. Was he that 'Strange' guy?"

Maria glanced distractedly at the woman beside her. She kept her answer short and stiff as she replied, "Yes, Agent Romanoff. That was him." She ground her teeth in agitation, her stress coming from a number of different things but Strange being at the top of the list.

"Was there something you needed?" she asked curtly.

The agent could sense the tension coming from Hill. Natasha breathed in lightly while her mind wandered. Her face remained strong, slight frustration in her hazel stare as she mumbled, "Dr. Banner was with Strange when SHIELD took them into custody, but I can't find one record on where he's being held."

"Why, does that trouble you Natasha?" Maria asked idly as she took a sharp turn and entered the somewhat crowded Command Room. She surveyed the Bay with approval, stepping up to the controls area to enter in a few commands. She kept her head tilted slightly so she could watch Romanoff from her peripherals.

Natasha's eyes narrowed, becoming borderline defensive over Maria's response. She couldn't help but express slight discontent despite her attempt to stay composed. "I just find it odd that you snatch two people and have only one in a local cell." She took a step forward to follow behind the agent. Black Widow had always been cold-hearted, but for reasons unknown this did not sit right with her.

She changed her tone, leaning over with her arms crossed in an attempt to look Maria in the eye. "What did you do to Banner?"

Hill straightened and glared the other woman down. "If you must know, Banner is currently at a facility in New Mexico. Strange has been avoiding SHIELD for who knows how long, too long as far as I'm concerned, and I needed help to get him contained. So I had to do a little military dealing in order to get that accomplished." Hill sighed, for once a more human side of her showing through as weariness replaced her firm features. "I had to make a few sacrifices Natasha," she said softly. "But believe me when I say it's for the greater good."

Natasha's eyes widened as if completely horrified, slowly losing more of her composure for the first time in a long while. Her stomach twisted angrily.

"Sacrifices? For what?! What are you trying to accomplish?! Bruce shouldn't have to suffer because you decide you need military intervention! He's with Ross isn't he? Answer me Maria!" she shifted her weight impatiently, grinding her teeth over one another and cutting the woman off before she could answer. "And what is Ross going to do with him? Create another Hulk? Then what?"

She swallowed harder when she recalled those files on Bruce. That poor man had been through enough torment, even the master assassin had enough of a heart to take that much into consideration.

The cold mask slid over Hill's features once more. "Yes Romanoff. Banner's with Ross. As for what he may be going through, I have no idea. You should have taken all this into account before taking the mission. You knew what your orders were, what you'd have to be doing. Why should it bother you now?"

The director paused and took a deep breath, placing a hand over Natasha's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know he was your friend and teammate, but as the director of SHIELD I have to do what's safest for the public, and sometimes that means making hard decisions. The Hulk was and is a danger and I figured that putting him with Ross would be the best idea for now until I came up with a better one."

"Don't touch me." Natasha pulled from her grip, beyond angered. "By the time you figure out what it is you want there'll be nothing left of him. He's not a threat Maria! You are! Anyone in their right mind is going to question this and every other action you've taken as of late."

"No one's going to question me Romanoff," Hill said coldly. "As the director I have free reign with the decisions I make. And you're just as guilty Natasha, you know you've got the same blood on your hands. After all, it was you who betrayed them over to Ross and his men."

Natasha gritted her teeth, ready to snap Hill's neck before storming in the other direction. She mumbled bitterly, swearing in Russian with her throat swelling for the first time in years. She set her jaw, mind racing over a million different thoughts. Determination was evident on her face as she headed towards he quarters. She needed a quick way to get to New Mexico.

But facing Ross? Those were fears and questions she pushed off for a later time, currently reaching a private screen to access details on the infamous Thaddeus Ross and his exact whereabouts. As the time passed in agonizing increments, her heart sank lower and lower as guilt ate away at her over the truth behind Maria's words. Thoughts of her betrayal to Bruce overwhelmed her mind and she became almost frantic in her search for anything helpful in locating Ross's base.


	7. Confinement

Bruce Banner could feel his headache worsening by the minute, a clear pounding in the back of his skull to match the speed of his heartbeat. The tests and experiments performed on his fragile build left him feeling raw, dissected, and emotionally numb.

He squirmed in his restraints, cutting and tearing at the soft skin of his wrists and ankles, the cold table leaving knots in his back and neck. He paused when trying to take a breath, unable to fill his lungs with oxygen with that stabbing pain in his torso. The broken rib, from one of Ross's fits. It was nothing compared to the bruises, scars, and open wounds that covered his body. The lock from his damp curls hung over his sweating forehead, and his breathing hitched, already anticipating the next 'experiment'. Apparently samples of his flesh, saliva, blood, and sweat stolen from him through brutal inhuman torture wasn't enough to appease the general who kept in minimal contact with the doctor.

A small part of Banner craved the taste of that bullet more than anything. Another part of him wished he could be elsewhere, around people who cared enough to listen. He'd give just about anything to be in a nice warm bed, to hear someone say that they cared. He closed his eyes and tried to arch his back to relieve some of the tension, wincing in agonizing pain.

…

Locked in an empty cell with nothing to do and no one to talk to, a caged sorcerer was given a lot of time to think. When Stephen was not being interrogated by the director, poked and prodded on, needled, slapped, spitefully treated, or otherwise occupied, he liked to make good use of his time by Astral projecting around the facility. In his Astral form he could choose to remain invisible to passersby, was able pass through walls and solid objects, and find out the information he needed for locating Banner. All the while his body, back at the cell, would appear only as if it were sleeping. No one would be the wiser. At least, he hoped not. This was his only form of freedom, however restrained it was with those magic inhibitors still in his hands. And he was going to put this brief freedom to good use.

After some time spent searching the area, Stephen was able to pinpoint where Banner's holding was. He wasted no time in directing his spirit form there.

Once inside the military base the sorcerer found that it was quite simple to figure out, well simple compared to SHIELD headquarters, and once he got his bearings he made his way to the containment cells located in the lower levels of the facility. Banner was in the third cell down, cruelly restrained to an operating table and with obvious cuts and abrasions all over his body. Stephen felt his heart twist in empathy for his friend. With a simple command he made his Astral form visible to Banner. He stepped forward into the light.

Bruce tilted his head slightly, borderline delusional as it was. He squinted up at the haggard figure before him, at first unable to recognize the nearly invisible form of his friend. He mumbled, voice scratchy from lack of water and sleep, "Stephen?"

Stephen swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat despite the lack of a corporal form. "Yes Bruce, it's me. I'm- I…" he hesitated, shaking his head. There was nothing he could really do without the full application of his abilities. Even in his spirit form his usage of magic was limited, and very much so. "I wish I could help," he whispered, resting his hands on the edge of the table and bowing his head. The sight of his friend so mistreated and in obvious pain made him feel helpless and angry over his inability to help. There had to be something he could do. Anything!

The physicist allowed his eyes to close, looking for any kind of temporary relief. He reopened them slowly, trying to look Stephen in the eye, which was somewhat hard considering the dim lighting and the way his friend's form flickered in a way that defied physical properties.

It didn't make any sense to Bruce, but he was too groggy to question much as he whispered weakly, "It's okay. Are you safe?" he squirmed slightly, breathing through a painful yelp. Bruce struggled to get a handle on the frustrated, sedated Hulk within him. Claustrophobia could've been a delusion but Bruce was sure his fear was a realistic one, wanting nothing more than to break free from this cage. His body went into panic mode for a moment, desperate to escape as he tried tugging his wrists from the metal.

"Hold still," Stephen said firmly, a doctor's instincts taking over. He moved around the side of the table to stand behind Bruce's head, then gently placed his palms over the physicist's temples. "Just, lie still. _Breathe_." he murmured a spell of healing over the man's body, urging his systems to speed up the repairs and hopefully ease the pain some.

When finished, Stephen stood and stepped back, removing his hands from Banner's forehead. The exercise left the sorcerer feeling drained and a little off-balance. "Feel a little better?" he asked wryly, coming around to Bruce's line of vision once more. He noted in approval how Banner's skin tone had returned to its normal healthy tan, and the bruises under his eyes were all but gone. "I'm sorry Bruce, I wish there was more that I could do right now."

The words sounded so empty to Stephen. His hands instinctively clenched at his sides. Without magic, he could do nothing for his friend, save what he already had. He was lost without his abilites.

Banner nodded in pure exhaustion, feeling a sense of physical relief wash over him. "Thank you. Stephen, what's going on?"

Now that his mind was a little clearer, he couldn't help noticing the frustration evident in the sorcerer's bearing. There was more going on than Stephen was sharing with Bruce.

Shaking his head, Stephen replied, "You tell me. My guess is as good as yours. All I know is that we were betrayed into the hands of… Ross, and SHIELD." The sorcerer glanced about the sparsely furnished room with obvious disdain. "I see they've spared no expense for their prized guest. I'm almost jealous."

Bruce gave a hoarse laugh, scoffing coldly. "I've spent half my life in here. I feel like I should be paying for utilities at this point. Maybe pay off some of the mortgage." Bruce tugged once more at his restraints, then looked back over at Strange, who was pacing morosely down the length of the cell. "What'd they do to you?"

Stephen made a cutting gesture with his hand. "Doesn't matter. I didn't come here to talk about me. How regular are Ross's visits? Never mind," Stephen muttered distractedly as he paced. "I could try and free you from your restraints but there's no guarantee you'd even make it out of here. Unless…" the sorcerer paused, giving Banner a considering look. "The Hulk could get you out," he said pointedly.

Bruce relented, letting his weak struggles cease as his body lay still, his stomach twisting nervously. He sighed, "No use Stephen, I'm on more sedatives and tranquilizers than I'd care to admit. Doubt I could even stand up with how much blood he's taken… Ross walks in to set up a test then walks out. He doesn't linger very long. His motley crew does most of the dirty work. If I'm calculating correctly I think it's about every ten to twenty minutes. Probably due for blood work in another four."

The sorcerer gripped his hair, heartrate starting to rise from the stress and added pressure. "This should never have happened," he said bitterly. "I'll get you out of here Banner, I swear it. These monsters will pay for the cruelties committed behind these walls." Anger fueled his words, anger for all the injustices done in the world, over no one ever lifting a hand to stop these crimes, and anger for those who had to suffer at the hands of these perpetrators. There would be blood to pay when Stephen got out. If he ever got out.

Stephen turned back to Bruce, laying a gentle hand over his friend's forearm. "Stay strong my friend. I'll be back as soon as I-"

His words were cut off as his Astral form flickered, and then abruptly disappeared.

Bruce's eyes widened, his pulse picking up in a panic, as he assumed the worst. He jerked frantically at his restraints, fresh wounds being opened on the skin of his wrists as he fought his confinement. "Stephen? Stephen!" guilt pooled through his heart. He wanted nothing more than to break loose and to free the friend who had done so much for him. He screamed angrily, voice echoing off the bare walls.

"SHIELD!"

The doctor's screams went on ignored, his frustration left unaddressed as Ross entered with a team directing curt orders to his men before departing. The general slammed the door of Banner's cell behind him, cutting off the sounds of anger and distress coming from the mouth of his victim.


	8. A Desperate Attempt

A shock coursed through Stephen's body, jolting him back to life as his spirit form was violently forced back into his physical self. His back arched, eyes snapping open to see SHIELD agents clustered around him in a mass of grey and blue uniforms. He gasped and fell to the floor, his hands trying to find purchase on the cool tiles as the pressure increased and blood dripped from his nose. He was shaking uncontrollably from the strain of premature Astral return. Stephen shook his head, the action causing his skull to pound and his vision to blur sickeningly. His hands gripped at the tiles for support, feeling a loss of control over his motor functions.

"Wh- why did you do that?" he choked out, fear and anxiety constricting his throat.

He heard the harsh clicking of heels as Maria Hill stepped up beside him, but he didn't have the strength in him to look up and face his tormentor.

"You gave us quite a scare there, Strange," she said archly, nudging his flank with her boot. "You weren't breathing. We were worried that you'd gone into cardiac arrest."

"I'm sure you're very disappointed then," Stephen replied, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Maria huffed out a laugh. "Quite honestly I am a bit disappointed. Would've certainly saved me the time and energy if you had."

It took Stephen a few moments to gather his strength again, the shock having taken quite a toll on his form. He took several deep breaths, recalling to mind the image of Banner held and restrained in a prison to be endlessly tortured until the mercy of death took over him. Stephen rose to his feet, stumbling slightly as he wiped the blood from his face, then he looked Hill square in the eye. "You have to let me go. You have no idea what Banner's going through, it's," he shook his head, disgusted over the treatment of his friend. "It's wrong and it's inhuman," he growled, fists bunching at his sides. "I have to go and help him. _Please_."

Maria shook her head, looking skeptical. "And how would you know? You've been confined in this cell since we caught you. Unless you're looking for some lame reason to escape."

"I don't have to answer to you," Stephen said lowly, a dangerous look in his eyes. Bruce needed his help and he'd be damned if he wasn't getting out of this cell today. Moving with lightning speed Stephen wrenched Hill roughly to his side and pinned her arms behind her back. He slowly began edging out the door, casting a warning glance towards the remaining SHIELD agents. His grip of iron tightened over the woman's small frame.

"Don't come any closer," he warned the soldiers, taking a step further back and glancing behind him. "Now, Miss Hill, you see that I have the upper hand. Would you kindly direct me to the exit?"

Hill ground her teeth, maliciously leading him in the wrong direction. "Down that alley. First left." Maria swung her feet towards his in an attempt to trip him.

Stephen grinned, deftly dodging her attempt. "That's not very nice Maria. And I believe that the exit is this way. Don't try to fool me."

The sorcerer didn't really need her help in directing him about the facility, he'd already explored the area intently and knew where he wanted to go. Sadly, and this was the unfortunate part, he was using the woman as a shield. Truly a cowardly thing to do. Stephen grumbled a curse, debating over just dropping her off somewhere so he could move faster.

"Stephen if you run you'll have 40 to 50 people chasing your tail," Hill growled, as if she sensed his thoughts.

He paused, chest heaving from the rush of adrenaline as he looked to either entry in the hallway before them. Decisions decisions…

"You think that matters to me Maria?" he asked softly. "I have faced much, much worse than anything SHIELD could procure. Any tortures you might come up with pale in comparison to the miseries of the nightmare realm, or the true horror of facing the king of demons. Compared to that, nothing can hurt me now… And this is where we say 'goodbye'." With that final note Stephen shoved the director to the side, quickly edging out of her reach and bolting down the corridor.

Maria scrambled to her feet shouting orders, beyond pissed off with herself that she'd allowed him to get even this far. "Follow him! Don't let him get too far!"

In spite of the urgency of the situation, Maria couldn't help wondering smugly what the sorcerer would do once he found that the prison he was on was floating over a huge expanse of ocean. There was nothing he could do and nowhere he could go.

…

Stephen ran faster, panting heavily as he heard his pursuers closing in behind him. Black spots flickered at the edges of his vision as dizziness came over him, probably from a lack of sleep and proper nutrition. Stumbling, he caught himself and briefly leaned against the wall for support, and then shaking his head he continued on. Banner, just keep thinking of Banner. He had to find him, had to help him… A couple of times he had to backtrack, getting lost in the maze of corridors, or hide as the soldiers went by in search of him.

At last he burst through a door and found himself on what looked to be a huge aircraft deck, with jets lining the length of the carrier. The sunlight nearly blinded him after being so long in artificial light, which brought to mind how he really had no idea how long he'd been down in that hold. Wind whipped through his hair as Stephen carefully made his way out onto the deck. He kept a careful watch out for flying bullets or tranquilizers.

Maria aimed her pistol, her eyes sharp and narrow as she focused in on her victim. She yelled for the fellow agents to step up their pace and remain close to the escapee. Her bullets flew through the air somehow missing the fugitive as he skirted their artillery. Her teeth ground over one another in anxiety while she stayed low and punched in another magazine. Nothing but agitation swarmed through her body and an eagerness to permanently remove this sorcerer from the world.

…

Stephen ducked, hearing the shots being fired at him. An animalistic fear and a desperate need for escape were the only driving forces behind his efforts now. He dodged behind a jet engine for cover, crouching against the cement as he caught his breath. Bullets pinged against the metal of the aircraft in rapid succession.

"Must have really pissed them off," he muttered wryly, withdrawing further from the onslaught.

He backed up to the edge of the deck, and then sensing a yawning emptiness behind him he glanced over his shoulder to see a huge expanse of water several thousand feet below. The height caused a sense of vertigo to come over him, making him lose his balance. He stumbled once before catching himself and falling to his knees in defeat.

Soldiers entered his line of vision, keeping their guns leveled on his still form as they closed in. He was trapped; there was nowhere else he could go being cornered in a prison floating thousands of feet up in the sky. What a fool he'd been…

Hill stepped up, smirking coldly as she aimed her pistol over the already fallen sorcerer. Her grip hovered over the trigger, for some reason feeling such a dislike and hatred for this man before her. "Can't say I didn't warn you Strange. Your ignorance will lead to your own undoing." She glanced over her shoulder at the hovering agents. "Put him in cuffs and lock him back in the cell. I want five guards posted at the door at all times." Hill glared back down at Strange, fingers rubbing over the metal weapon within her grasp. She contorted her mouth in slight disgust while she watched the man being chained up.

Stephen was roughly hauled to his feet and his wrists bound behind his back. He didn't put up a fight, refused to say anything, for his mind was already racing furiously over his remaining options. Stephen knew his chances at getting out of here alive were getting slimmer by the minute. An agent jerked him by the arm, the others keeping a guarded stance about him as though he might attack at any minute.

As he was marched past Maria Hill, Stephen halted in his tracks and gave her a wary look. "Why do we keep doing this? What could you possibly hope to gain from me Maria?"

She narrowed her focus, breath quickening. "You tell me Stephen. You're the one with the secrets, powers you refuse to explain to me. It's not what I hope to gain. It's what I will eliminate."

"And that's exactly why I refuse to tell you anything." He made a poor attempt at lifting one of his hands, being restrained as he was. "See this? See what you've done?" he asked softly, his silver gaze searching hers. "You made a poor decision that day, when you took my power from me." He grinned slightly, shaking his head in self-deprecation. "Now I'm nothing but a lame horse. There's no reason to keep me around, unless of course you like my good looks and charm."

Now he was pushing it, and he knew it, but at this point he could almost care less. His resolve had nearly broken when he'd seen that endless expanse of ocean, itself more of a cage than anything he'd encountered so far. It had spelled the end of his escape plan, the end of his fight for freedom. Right now, he was alone, bound, weak and hungry, with no hope for outside help. And he was completely at the mercy of this woman before him.

Maria's eyes widened almost viciously, furious as she lifted her pistol without a second thought. She held her breath and pulled the trigger, jaw clenched tight when she heard the sound of her bullet slice into her enemy. Hill lowered her weapon, gaze going soft for a moment before she stormed off in the opposite direction.

"Lock him up."


	9. Widow's Rescue?

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy the update! Thank you so much RKF22 for reading and reviewing :)

Natasha Romanoff closed her eyes and took a deep breath before pushing her way through the door. She remained alert, gaze scanning the deck of the Helicarrier as she snuck out into the open inconspicuously. The red-head breathed in the fresh air, her heart in her throat as she was about to embark on her mission to save Banner. Finding Ross's location at the military base was easier than anything, but the thought of breaking in alone was still nerve-racking.

She approached the jet, shielding her eyes from the blinding sunlight as she climbed up into the cockpit and took a seat, fully ready to man the aircraft. Determination was thick in her features as she started the jet and took off, getting her coordinates for the base in New Mexico ready.

How could anyone be cruel enough to just give Banner up to his primary antagonist? It was twisted, corrupt, and inhuman. Natasha wrinkled her nose in disgust, disappointed with Director Maria Hill and what she had done to her friend. Her chest hurt when she wondered what could have become of that sarcastic dark-haired physicist, especially knowing that she'd played a part in his betrayal.

…

The black-clad assassin stepped out of the jet and into the shimmering heat of midday, her boots lightly touching down on the burning concrete of the military base. She grabbed her weapons and strapped them on, her poison darts going on her wrists and her pistols being holstered at her sides. Once ready, Natasha made her way to the front entrance, located on the west side of the building. Not even a single guard posted, she thought in disdain. The wind whipped through her red hair, tossing it back out of her eyes as she slammed open the door and entered with all the ease of a master assassin.

Seeing the first soldier down the hallway, a bored look on his face as he looked up to address the newcomer, she raised her wrist and fired the sedatives into him. The guard fell over unconscious. Natasha heard a shout and the running of feet, and then the real fight began. Soon after alarms went off announcing the assassin's presence.

The corner of her mouth lifted up half a centimeter, content with the alarms that she'd caused to sound off through the facility. Her gymnastic maneuvers skillfully threw her enemies from off of her. She bolted down the corridor, dodging bullets, fists, and sedatives with grace and ease. She loaded her Widow's Sting and tossed two electrocuting mini explosions from off her utility belt, scattering the men nearest her.

…

The base was a mad scramble, the focal point of the chaos seeming to come from the western entrance.

"Who the hell would be dumb enough to lay siege on this place?!" General Ross shouted, his blood boiling at the thought of anyone being so arrogant. He could think of a few people, actually, who might make the attempt. Enemies he'd made in the past or even people he had made mutual alliances with. People like that Maria Hill from SHIELD. Cursing, Ross checked the security intel and soon recognized the woman fighting to be none other than the famed Black Widow. A dangerous assassin known to be working alongside SHIELD and its cohorts. Those backstabbing bastards. So they wanted a fight did they? Well he'd give them one. SHIELD would learn not to mess with ol' Thunderbolt Ross and his army. Turning about, he directed heated orders to the men standing nearby.

"You two! Go keep an eye on Banner! Won't let those SHIELD crazies get the better of me," he growled, almost to himself. "The rest of you, go deal with that menace Black Widow! I want her captured and brought to me for questioning ASAP!"

…

Romanoff continued to fight her battle, holding her resolve together as she knocked out one final attacker before retreating to the security room. She bent over the desk, leaning close to view the images onscreen. Her fingers typed frantically to hack into the systems and access the amount of guards that scrambled around the base. She sensed an odd presence and without thinking twice she lifted her pistol, firing over her shoulder.

Once retrieving the information she needed the Black Widow dashed from the room. She mentally mapped out her plan of attack upon locating Banner's cell, and continued to thwart off Ross's minions, growling deep in her throat in pure frustration.

…

Breathing out threats and curses, the general disembarked to the containment level of the facility. He slammed open the door to Banner's cell, his face livid as he strode right up to the table the spineless twerp was strapped to. Roughly grabbing him by the shoulders Ross demanded, "Who did you talk to?! Dammit Banner! What kind of ploy is this?" He leaned down close to Banner's face, features twisting in hatred as he growled. "You think you can fool me? I got this all figured out. Just you watch. When your little SHIELD agent traipses in, I'll have her tranqued immediately and sent to my office for questioning. She won't be getting out for a very long time, thanks to you," Ross sneered.

The doctor lowered his eyebrows, shifting weakly in his awkward position, completely bitter over his torment with Ross gripping his worn and fragile frame. He wrinkled his nose carelessly in angst and borderline numbness. "Who?! SHIELD wouldn't come for me." That much was obvious.

"Well they damn well have!" the general snapped, his hand clenching into a fist debating over punching the boy's lights out. "So you'd better start talking now Banner."

Bruce remained limp, his focus going hazy for a moment. His deep brown eyes drifted steadily with a look of surrender on his face. Who would be stupid enough to come all the way over here to harass Ross? What could SHIELD possibly want from him? Unless of course it was Stephen who'd come, just like he'd promised earlier in the day. But Stephen wasn't with SHIELD so Ross would have to be highly mistaken if that were the case. Plus, the general had referred to the infiltrator as a 'she'. There weren't many people Bruce could think of that were willing to stick their necks out for him.

At a point where nothing mattered anymore, Bruce sighed and mumbled sarcastically, "Talk about what. I know nothing." By now anything would be an improvement from these restraints.

Ross narrowed his gaze in disgust over his enemy's form. He shook his head, visibly quivering from barely contained rage. "Fine," he spat, turning roughly away. "You don't want to talk I'll just be having a little chat with your friend, the Black Widow," he said, enunciating the last words clearly for Banner's benefit. He smirked in a satisfied way upon hearing an audible intake of breath from his victim. Just as he whirled back around to face Banner with a haughty look on his face, the door banged open and in stepped a red-headed assassin with her weapons leveled straight at the general.

Her head stayed tilted at an angle, lips curving in just enough of a smirk for a facial expression to be visible. "Heard my name General, no wonder my ears were tingling."

Bruce's eyes softened almost involuntarily when he saw her. Two-faced SHIELD agent or not, he was visibly disgusted with the idea that the general would even think to antagonize her. He swallowed dryly, and though still bitter over her betrayal he felt more empowered and at ease with someone else who appeared to be on his side. Natasha fired her pistol towards the restraints on his wrists to make his escape easier, then leapt on Ross with a chokehold to distract him enough while Bruce worked on breaking free.

Light color returned to his vibrant stare once he escaped from the cold table and fell to the floor, landing on his knees. The exercise caused the blood to start moving again and he felt his features flush slightly with adrenaline. He stood, shaking his head to clear the numbness, and defended Widow by warding off any attackers with his growing agility.

Natasha wrestled with the general, muttering under her breath, "Anything you want to share with me general before I slit your throat?" She emphasized her question by pulling a knife from her boot. The general's eyes widened in shock and perhaps even fear as she held the blade to his throat.

"Wait!"

Natasha gasped, somewhat disappointed when the battered physicist knocked Ross across his skull. The general's eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped to the floor unconscious. She contorted her mouth, raising an eyebrow slightly as she made silent eye contact with Banner. She noted how her friend's eyelids dropped slightly in exhaustion while he took an added step to regain his balance. Rolling her eyes, Natasha bent over to grab the unconscious general by the scruff of his neck.

"You're welcome Dr. Banner. That was certainly not one of my easier break-ins," she said archly. Bruce instinctively grabbed her arm and pulled her from the cell and into the hallway, knowing that they wouldn't have much time left to get out before the corridors were filled with armed men and women.

"Why did you… Never mind. You'd probably lie anyways. Come on let's get out of here before Ross wakes up."

Romanoff pulled from his loose grip, running slower than usual so Banner could keep pace with her.

"Exit's this way doc."

Bruce sighed with a slight eye-roll. He knew this base better than the one who built it in the first place. He didn't argue though, his breath hitching as pain shot up his torso from his body's mistreatment. "Let me guess, SHIELD sent you. Wants me dissected-"

The assassin shook her head, her red curls giving a slight bounce as she kicked back a potential attacker. Her eyes trailed back over to her friend, softening in mild sympathy. The Bruce Banner she knew wasn't supposed to look that suppressed and uncomfortable, unwashed and with a few day's growth of beard on his face. He looked worn down and haggard.

"No. But maybe you should stop talking before I change my mind and let Maria lock you up with your 'Strange' friend."

Upon hearing mention of his friend Bruce's eyes lit up in desperation, a panicky feeling settling in as he recalled the last time he'd seen Stephen and of his abrupt disappearance. "You know where he is? Natasha you have to take me to him! Please! He needs my help!"

Natasha's eyes widened over Bruce's frantic behavior. She shook her head, unable to comprehend how it could matter to him now after all the tortures he'd gone through. Bruce should be happy just getting out of here alive.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

"Please, Natasha," Bruce said quietly.

Grumbling under her breath, Natasha ushered the quiet physicist out the back door and into the open. Most of the confusion was internal so they should have a small window of opportunity to escape before any passing soldiers caught sight of them. She pointedly did not make a reply to Bruce about 'helping' his friend.

"The jet's this way. Come on before I take off without you," she called over her shoulder, taking off at a sprint in her desperation to get away from Ross and this place. She slowed a little though when she noticed Banner's slight limp that made walking difficult for him. Normally, Natasha would have just rolled her eyes and made another cutting comment, but seeing the battered doctor in such a state put a wrench in her gut just knowing that she had been the one to betray him in the first place.

Romanoff glanced back over her shoulder once, then strode back over to Bruce and offered a light hand on his shoulder to keep him steady.

"I hope you know how much I've stuck my neck out for you Banner. Because this will probably be the last time I do it," she said this half-jokingly though, the thoughts of her betrayal still pricking like a needle in her heart.

When they reached the jet she made sure Bruce was the first on in before she climbed in herself and started up the system. "Hang on doc this'll be a rough start," she warned. "Try and keep the big guy in check for me."

The corner of Bruce's mouth lifted in a grin when he teased, "No promises…"


	10. Mission Impossible

They'd managed to escape Ross's base without any further hitches. Once they'd been in the air for about an hour, with the sun dipped low in the sky, Natasha put the craft on autopilot. Unstrapping her seatbelt she edged out of the cockpit and then headed over to where Banner sat with his head bowed low. His hands rubbed over one another nervously, a nerve twitching in his cheek as his brown eyes looked up to meet hers. The assassin silently took note of his haggard, ill-looking appearance, and felt just a little something crack in her hardened heart over the sight.

"Hey," she said, swallowing slightly before turning her gaze away.

His brown orbs glanced up politely towards her when she spoke. He wondered what she wanted, accustomed as he was to her unpredictable tendencies and never-ending curiosity. Bruce kept his guard up for the time being. He didn't trust her completely and after all she had betrayed him to Ross in the first place.

He answered simply by saying, "Hey."

Natasha's hazel eyes narrowed to slits for a moment, what she was trying to do wasn't easy and his sarcasm was only making it harder. Rather than getting straight to the point the woman just searched around the compartment, biting her lip as she reached under her seat and pulled out a couple of water bottles. She tossed one over to Bruce before uncapping hers and taking a sip.

"Have some you look like you could use a little nourishment." After taking another sip she nodded over to Bruce, indicating the bruises visible on his head and arms, and the few cuts that she could see. Some of them looked fairly recent. "You need to get that looked at. We've got a first-aid kit in here somewhere. With the jet on auto-pilot we have a safe window of about 20-30 minutes before I'm needed back up front. What do you say doc?"

She was already searching for the kit, mostly just trying to avoid eye contact with the dark-haired physicist. He shrugged tentatively, not really wanting her assistance and much less familiar with the more human and relatable side to Romanoff.

His lips turned down in a slight pout though when he saw she'd already taken out the medical kit and held it in her hand. "It's a nice thought but unnecessary Miss Romanoff." He scoffed, mentally retreating from this new side to the assassin that he'd never really encountered before. "Why? You looking for blood samples?"

Somewhat flustered, Natasha replied, "No. It's called an apology. But whatever take care of yourself Banner." She shoved the kit into his hands and stalked back towards the front, irritated with herself mostly because she didn't know how to handle Bruce's rough exterior. And it was hard, so very hard, for her to swallow her pride and say she was sorry. "I'll be dropping you by Stark Tower so you can get some real care, from people you know and trust," she said, almost disdainfully.

So much for 'rescuing' Banner. He was just as much a pain as she remembered him being. Her grip tightened almost involuntarily on the wheel as she took her seat again, setting the course for New York.

In the back, Bruce froze, his eyes widening over her destination choice. "Wait, no Natasha, I can't- No! Stephen- Just no. Please. I appreciate your concern truthfully, but to run to the tower would be wrong. My friend's in trouble, and after everything he's done for me I can't just leave him with SHIELD."

Romanoff shook her head, her mouth thinning to a line as her gaze flicked back to Banner's. "Bruce why. Why does it matter? I went against SHIELD protocol to get you out of Ross's grip, and now you're free and you want to go to another prison? It doesn't matter," she ground her teeth, feeling a twinge of guilt over what she was about to tell him. He had to understand though that there was no point in going to SHIELD. It was for his own good. "He's a dead man anyways Banner. I saw Hill shoot him this morning."

Bruce's heart picked up speed instantly. His mouth dropped open as everything in his lap fell to the floor. His breathing quickened, eyes glossing over with wetness before he blinked it away. Tremors came over his body, an agonizing stillness coming over his thoughts. He blamed himself completely for dragging Stephen into this mess. Bruce froze, gripping his hands tightly and shaking his head in denial. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. His stomach twisted in knots at the overwhelming information.

"Natasha… why…" he asked, voice breaking as he tried to speak past the lump in his throat.

"I don't know!" she snapped, herself feeling a sickening twist in her gut as she looked over Bruce's crestfallen features. "God Bruce, I just don't know. I'm an assassin, and sometimes I hate to say it but I just don't care about people that much. All I've ever known is how to kill and destroy on command. I don't think I could know anything else even if I tried."

The light was beginning to fade outside as evening drew in, the velvet blue sky just showing the first violet hues of night. Romanoff gripped the wheel, sighing quietly once she looked back over at her trembling friend.

"I'm sorry Bruce. I really don't know anything else about it." She hesitated, biting her lip undecidedly before saying gently, "There's a small possibility your friend's still around, but I can't make any guarantees. Bruce I need you to understand that we're running a huge risk if we step foot back on that Helicarrier."

There was a chance. Sounded like a small chance, but it was there nonetheless. Bruce pursed his lips, rubbing a hand over his jaw wearily as he weighed over the possibility. What would he do if Stephen really were gone? He wouldn't be able to forgive himself, knowing that he had been the one to get them in this mess. He _had_ to do something though. There was no way he was just abandoning his friend like that. His brows lowered, reaching a hand down to subconsciously rub at a sore spot on his side.

"Natasha I don't need to drag you down with me. It's my problem not yours, and I'll take care of it. Look I'm sorry if this is hard for you to understand but it's something I have to do. If you could just get me there. Please. I swear you can take off the moment I jump off this thing." He swallowed dryly, closing his eyes nervously. "You've done a lot for me already, and I appreciate it. But now there's someone else who needs a little help. And I know he'd do the same for me."

Natasha furrowed her brows in consideration. It touched her that Bruce was so determined to help someone, his friend, even if he was beyond their help by now. With a small sigh the agent shifted the controls and angled the jet in the direction of its home base. "You won't have to go in alone Banner," she said quietly.

"You don't have to come with me Natasha," he sighed lightly, content at least that she seemed to be willing to head in that direction. He swallowed and brushed that pesky lock from over his eyebrow. "I don't want or anyone else getting hurt because of me."

_It's a little late for that_, she thought dryly, but otherwise didn't comment on it. "Stop arguing Bruce. I'm going in whether you like it or not. I'm partly responsible for this mess anyways. Besides, you don't even know where his cell is located."

The physicist smirked slightly over the red-head's pointed argument. Under that rough exterior and all those cutting remarks he could see a softer side to her. Bruce leaned forward a bit, nodding once before he changed his mind about arguing any further. He leaned his sore and aching frame back against the chair, face tilted downward as he gnawed at his cheek. "Natasha?" he asked in a soft whisper, letting his walls come down for a moment. "Thank you."


	11. We Need a Better Plan

Back in the lower bowels of the Helicarrier a lone captive lay shackled and wounded in the dim interior of his cell. Stephen curled in on himself, passing in and out of darkness for how long he knew not. Time was a bitter agony that wasted away at his torn frame. He breathed shallowly, the open gash in his chest giving a sharp pang every time he so much as inhaled or exhaled. The pain was a reminder that he was alive, at least, but small respite that was when being locked in a cage.

Nothing was done to treat his wounds, save for a scratchy cloth bandage that had been loosely wrapped over the area. It scraped harshly against the deep aching cut, the rough material causing a burning sensation to permeate the area whenever he shifted his position even slightly. His body racked with shivers from the loss of blood and poor oxygen intake. No matter how close he held himself he couldn't seem to find any warmth. Beads of perspiration formed on his brow as images passed through his mind, going so fast that they were a mere blur to his tired psyche. He kept seeing Hill as she stood before him, the hardened look on her face twisting into a grimace of hate as she pulled the trigger on him. Stephen swallowed thickly, his throat going dry when he recalled Banner and the promise he'd made to him.

"I'm sorry my friend," he whispered brokenly, his voice cracking slightly. "I don't think I'm going to make it this time…" his quiet words turned into a fit of coughing. He could taste the blood in the back of his throat, could feel the damage done to his body with every agonizing intake of breath he took. His hands strained uselessly at the bonds that held them in place behind his back. This awkward position pulled his shoulders back and made his chest arch outwards somewhat, which stretched taut the still trickling wound in his chest. It was unable to heal and close over from this constant pressure. When his coughing subsided a tearing pain ripped through his chest and torso. For a moment he lost his breath and blacked out from the shock. The bullet was still in his chest. Who knew how close to his heart it lay?

How much time did he have left? Any?

Stephen knew he was dying. And what a slow, senseless death it was too. He never thought it'd end this way, being locked in a cage with no light to see by and slowly bleeding out. There was no one he could say goodbye to. No one he could tell what needed to be told, at the very last. Stephen's breath hitched in agitation over the urgency of the situation. If he died… there would be no one to protect his son.

And wouldn't his enemies rejoice to see him like this, the grand Sorcerer Supreme reduced to such a wretched state. How disappointed they should be that they weren't the ones to deal the killing blow. What a bitter irony his life had turned out to be.

Stephen shook the delirium from his mind, his eyelids fluttering weakly as he tried to sit up, but then collapsed almost immediately back onto the cot. His teeth bared from the pain spiking over his heart. He roughly jerked at his restraints again, desperate to be free of them if only to rub over the yawning ache in his chest. It was no use though. The shackles stayed strong and in the end all he accomplished was in scraping up his wrists.

His thoughts drifted in a haze. What about Banner? If only he could have convinced him to stay… if Stephen had done better by his friend then they'd never have been in this situation in the first place. Thinking of Bruce and the tortures he was surely enduring, Stephen felt fresh guilt wash over him. It was his fault, of course, that they were in such dire straits.

The pain numbed him to all other sensations. Darkness was closing in on him. His eyes closed, and he took a shuddering breath in effort to keep himself awake. He sincerely hoped Bruce would make it out okay. And that he would forgive him for all the broken promises…

…

Bruce shifted anxiously in his chair, rubbing over his cheek with the palm of his hand. His gaze stayed curiously on the red-haired pilot. He inhaled a silent breath before opening his mouth, "So what's your plan Natasha?"

The agent glanced to either side of her as she angled the jet downwards. "Well, we'll be landing in about half an hour. If we can sneak you past the guards then we just make our way to the containment cells. If Strange is still there then we bust him out and…" she swallowed, her grip convulsing slightly on the wheel as she eased the craft into a gentle dive. "We work from there," she muttered.

The doctor's body leaned forward slightly with the momentum of her gradual descent, relying completely on her judgment and piloting abilities to get them there in one piece. A small and subtle grin spread over his features. If she could break into Ross's property and break him out then most likely she wouldn't have any issues sneaking into SHIELD and getting him inside.

The Helicarrier was within sight now, the reflective lights clearly illuminating her path onto the landing strip. The radio squawked, a person at the other end demanding her clearance level and intentions. Romanoff took a deep breath and gave a simple but curt reply, giving her passenger a sharp glance and a gesture for him to remain low and keep quiet. A moment later and she was given clearance to land. The jet shuddered slightly as it hit an air current, then the wheels touched down and the craft rolled smoothly onto the deck. After shutting off the controls Natasha turned to face her friend, feeling her heart in her throat as she asked, "Ready?"

Banner returned her focus almost empathetically. He knew this was hard for her, out of character, and uncomfortable. The dark-haired physicist nodded slowly, leaning some of his weight against the wall of the jet for stability. "I'm ready when you are." He inhaled sharply when she made a move to leave, soft with his tone as he said, "Be careful Miss Romanoff."

The agent scoffed, rolling her eyes as she popped open the door of the jet. "Speak for yourself."

She stepped out, casting a sharp glare around the vicinity before urging Bruce out alongside her. The deck was quiet and completely empty, the bright floodlights lining the overhead walks the only source of illumination in the growing dark. Her stomach twisted nervously. Something about this just didn't seem right… shaking her head Natasha ignored her gut instincts and turned back to Bruce.

"Okay, first off we're going to get you some clothes and some antiseptic on those cuts, then I'll take you down to the containment cells. Got it? No questions, no arguments, do what I say or we might as well turn around now." She crossed her arms over her chest, looking away in veiled nervousness.

Bruce shook his head over her stubborn nature. Maybe Natasha was making a good point, he couldn't be very helpful to Stephen if he was a disaster himself. Banner bit at his cheek, his brows creasing downward some. "Okay, and do you plan on pulling these things out of thin air Miss Romanoff?"

"Shut it," she said with a smirk before turning away and skirting towards one of the entrances leading to the topmost level of the ship. Natasha moved at a quick pace, glancing over her shoulder every now and then to gauge Banner's distance from her and if he was falling behind. For the most part he seemed to keep up alright, which was a good thing because the unsettling quiet that hung over the top floor was very agitating to the agent. These weren't normal conditions for the Helicarrier, and she couldn't help wondering what might be going on.

"Hurry, put these on," she said, shoving the clothes into Banner's hands as she leaned her head out the doorway to check for any approaching guards. Shaking her head she reentered, folding her arms across her chest. "Something's not right…" she muttered.

Bruce pursed his lips, analyzing her movements while he lingered behind in the room. He briefly looked over his shoulder before returning his attention to the red-haired assassin, mumbling sarcastically while he played with his hands. "Can I talk now or am I supposed to wait for your permission?"

Nodding distractedly she replied, "Sure. No one seems to be around on the upper floors, so I guess it's safe for now. But I'd really like to check the security to see what's going on. I don't like going in unprepared."

Bruce nodded, removing the tattered attire and slipping into the clothes given him. Bruce furrowed a brow, his mouth contorting in worry over her nervous behavior. "Which way's security?"

Romanoff ground her teeth over one another as she started pacing. "It's not too far from here. Next to the command bay I believe. Come on, you want to get your friend out of here or what?" she asked sharply, beginning to rush again.


	12. If This is to End in Fire

**A/N: Thank you RFK22 for your continued support :) I hope this chapter satisfies, I know how much you've been waiting for some Brutasha hints. Hope you approve :)**

**And Jotunchick11...someday I know you'll catch up in the story little one ;) -snickers-**

(Earlier…)

"Fire! Fire in the lower holdings!"

The cry of alarm spread through the systems, bells went off announcing the threat which caused the mass majority to make a mad scramble for the nearest exits. The whole place was like an overturned anthill, with agents dashing here and there carrying either buckets of water and fire extinguishers and others simply trying to get out of the way.

Maria Hill was having trouble controlling her agents. She shouted, the sound echoing off the high rafters and grabbing the attentions of those nearest her. "Get everyone rounded up and get that fire under control!" she said firmly, pointing in the direction from which they'd all come.

All was chaos. No one seemed to have an inkling of how the fire had started, though some said it may have been related to electrical shorts. In the end no one really knew. Right now all that mattered was containing the flames and dousing that fire. Adjusting her earpiece Hill strode determinedly after the frenzied agents, grinding her jaw in frustration. That fire needed to be put out before this whole place went down in flames.

…

Bruce followed close behind Natasha, feeling much more comfortable in his new clothes. His gaze roved about anywhere he noticed hers had been. At one point his hand rested tentatively on her shoulder, stopping her before she took off without him as he peeked curiously through a door the woman had already viewed for herself. When she flinched from his touch he pulled back and continued following behind her.

The two were almost to the security room when Natasha stopped dead in her tracks. She wrinkled her nose slightly, trying to place the familiar scent that she couldn't quite pinpoint. Realization dawned suddenly and she looked over at Bruce, an expression of growing horror over her features as she asked, "Do you smell smoke?"

Banner's eyes widened, his heart nearly stopping when he made the connection. Nervous anxiety pooled through his veins as he mumbled, "Oh my God."

…

Stephen jolted awake when he heard cries of alarm echoing through the corridors of the facility. His thoughts muddled and beyond delirious he shifted his weight, struggling to sit up and clear his mind. Shouts of 'fire!' and 'help!' pricked through the haze, sending sharp nerve impulses traveling throughout his weary system. By the sound of it the flames seemed to have either started on his level or had reached it by now. Somewhere, whether near or far it was difficult to place at the moment. Adrenaline shot through his veins, giving the sorcerer the impetus needed to rise to his feet and drive his shoulder into the door with all his strength mustered. _He had to try. Had to try…_

The door refused to budge, however, and despite the added rush he could feel himself growing weaker by the minute. He stubbornly continued to beat against the door, his breath growing ragged with every push and strain. His skin tore anew and fresh blood trickled forth from his chest.

At the last Stephen collapsed to the floor, leaning his broken frame against the unforgiving doorway in exhaustion. He shook his head, still hearing the shouts and cries of warning from outside, buzzing at the back of his mind like a hive of angry hornets. He felt the unnatural warmth at his back, the heat from the approaching flames burning into the door. Smoke slowly started filtering in from the vents overhead. Bowing his head, the sorcerer took shallow breaths to preserve what little oxygen he had left. The heavy smoke burned the back of his throat and he doubled over on his knees, coughing from the fumes as tears pricked his vision.

So this is how it would end. In fire.

…

Bruce kept moving forward with no intention of stopping or turning back, sick to his stomach over a possibility he didn't dare entertain. His pace picked up a bit, following the smell of smoke and gaze frantically searching for his friend. His eyes stayed sharp and alert, the physicist feeling frustrated that his feet seemed unable to carry him quick enough.

"What level Natasha?" he asked, panting slightly from exertion.

Romanoff herself was feeling the strain. The situation wasn't looking good, and it looked like it'd suddenly gone from bad to worse. Much, much worse. She spoke quickly, picking up the pace as she dodged past offices and abandoned rooms, heading for the stairs that led down to the lower levels.

"The containment cells are located on the third level, towards the northern end of the 'carrier. He's in cell number 12, I think. We have to hurry, I have no idea where the fire may have started or how far it's gotten but we need to get down there fast if we're to have even a prayer of saving your friend." Natasha would have hoped that if prisoners were endangered SHIELD would make it a priority to get them out of harm's way, but seeing as how Maria handled Strange with a sense of deep-boned hatred, she wasn't so sure about that hopeful sentiment.

Bruce made a quick left, running ahead of Natasha for a brief moment. Once he saw extra smoke coming from up ahead he backpedaled, turning to Natasha with worry lining his brows. His voice expressed no hints of sarcasm as he said, "Natasha you need to get off of this thing now."

"Bruce, I'm staying with you. Now move your ass before I move it for you!"

The physicist just shook his head, muttering under his breath about the determination of certain SHIELD agents, then sprinted back down the smoking corridor. When flames reared up on his left Bruce jumped back, trying hard to dodge the smoke and fire. His eyes flicked upward and he took a sharp inhale just as he saw the ceiling above them weaken. It filled rapidly with smoke from the flames below, the heat and friction causing the roof to buckle and cave in. Bruce reached out and grasped Natasha's hand, pulling her close to soften their landing just as the floor collapsed beneath them. His breath quickened before he let her go, moving forward through the littered hallway while he took deep breaths to control his heartbeat.

"Saved us a trip down the stairs," he said, his voice cracking from the dry air.

"Good point," Natasha grunted as she hauled herself to her feet. She covered a hand over her mouth, breathing slowly and squinting her eyes to see through the smoke. She thought they were on the third level, if she was guessing correctly. Flames flickered at the edges of her vision, hungrily licking at the walls and floor around them. She nodded her head towards the left, her heartbeat quickening in distress. "I think it's this way. Let's hurry before we get buried down here."

Bruce nodded, keeping close to her side as they headed down the alley and watching the red-head from the corner of his eye. He would've been far more content with the assassin someplace safer, it was bad enough Stephen might already be hurt, or worse… Natasha shouldn't suffer too because of him. He shook his head, a hand over his mouth as he coughed from the thick smoke that swirled through the air.

As she stepped over some debris Natasha turned her head to peer back at Bruce, when flames suddenly shot forth from the ceiling just ahead of her. She reared back and fell into Bruce's arms, her chest and shoulders heaving from the sudden shock. The assassin shook it off and regained her footing, her hand shaking slightly as she nervously brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "Bruce," she started, then doubled over coughing. "We- we can't get through! We have to go back or we'll die down here!" she shouted, voice straining above the roar of the flames and the structure falling down around them.

Bruce's eyes narrowed on her, before he took a deep breath and nudged her in the opposite direction. His eyes flickered green with a newfound determination. Bruce made empathetic eye contact with the red-head, almost forceful in his words when he said, "You're going back Natasha. Now get out of here before you kill yourself!"

The assassin's mouth dropped open in alarm over what he was suggesting. She grabbed at his arm before he could pull away. "Bruce, no you'll never make it. This place is a death-trap! It's not worth getting yourself killed over!" Desperation leaked into her words as she looked over her physicist with newfound appreciation. "Please Bruce," she said more softly. "We have to get out of here."

Banner shook his head, glossy brown eyes gazing into hers. Her eyes were a bright hazel, spilling with emotion he'd never seen her express before. Bruce felt his heart in his throat as he reached out and gently placed his hands on her arms.

"Natasha I've got to try. I know I probably won't make it but maybe the 'other guy' will. You've got to trust me." He closed his eyes, wanting right then to thank her for all the help she'd been, for being a friend, and for even risking her life to break him from the army base. Any thought he tried conveying slipped through his emotional barrier and into a reassuring response. His lips pressed against hers without a second thought, the action quick but tender. He pushed her gently back before turning away and pressing forward into the smoke-filled hull with stubborn determination.

Romanoff touched her lips, a warmth filling her that was different and somehow separate from the heat of the burning room she stood in. "Be careful Bruce," she whispered, watching as he disappeared from view. She heard a crack and felt the floor shifting beneath her feet. Moving quickly she leapt to the other side and hastened down the corridor just as the floor collapsed. That dark-haired physicist never strayed far from her thoughts as she made her way out of the area.


	13. An Unexpected Friend

**A/N: Thank you readers and followers for your support :) This chapter's pretty intense and I must say it was incredibly fun to write with Miss Animation. Girl you've got my thanks for all your participation in this crazy story ;) would love reviews and support from my readers!**

Bruce dodged pieces of the crumbling structure that was falling around him. He cringed, his head pounding viciously with every forceful intake of breath. The smoke filled his lungs, making his breathing far more difficult. He heard a subtle roar in the back of his mind and his gut stirred in recognition of the rage held within.

"Come on big guy don't let me down now," he panted, startled when a section of rafter swung over his head, narrowly missing the physicist.

Banner redirected his path, his thoughts staying fixed on his friend as his heart rate slowly but surely began picking up speed. His lungs ached from the bitter smoke, the man cringing when stray debris knocked into his weakened frame. His closed his eyes, a deep animalistic growl forming in the back of his throat. Then his eyes flashed open with a vibrant green behind them. Bruce's head started throbbing in a different and much more familiar way.

He inhaled a deep yet shuddering breath, the doctor's muscles contracting and expanding in rapid motion as a deep green flooded over his skin. Alone in the smoke-filled and flaming building, Bruce doubled over, coughing and struggling to control his breathing to make the transition as controllable as possible. There was a rush in his skull as he slowly slipped from reality and allowed his alter-ego to take over. The last few threads of Bruce's thoughts strained to recall the cell number where Natasha had said Stephen would most likely be in.

As the now green giant completely took over Banner's psyche, all sensibility slipped from him as he ran forward, his roars of outrage echoing off the walls and ceiling. He knocked every door off their hinges, dimly remembering he was looking for someone, that someone needed his help. The Hulk remained focused and alert, a small amount of Banner's determination still lingering at the back of his mind. He knew his mission was to find and rescue that 'Sorcerer'.

…

A violent crash from overhead startled Stephen enough to rouse him from his delirium. His eyes cracked open, barely lifting his head to peer through the haze. Something big was forcibly pushing its way into the cell, the creature giving off growls of discontent until at last the door and wall gave way. Pieces of plaster and broken ceiling rained down on the sorcerer's fallen form. The smoke cleared just enough for Stephen to see a monstrous face glaring down at him before the creature was engulfed in shadow again. Stephen's head sagged once more in resignation. So Mephisto had sent his hound of death for him after all, Stephen thought vaguely. The creature shuffled closer, crouching slightly to find purchase on the uneven surface of the floor. In his delirium the sorcerer was hardly aware when the monster lightly touched his shoulder, rumbling incomprehensibly under his breath.

Hulk lowered his eyebrows and tilted his head, his agitation mounting as he picked up on the danger all around them. His large build bent down to try and encourage "puny Bruce's" friend to stir, humming with a deep-throated tone in an attempt to get some sort of response. The giant jerked his head up, eyes narrowing over the roiling smoke in the air and the nearing flames. His large arms carefully wrapped around Stephen, lifting him gently before he made his break and pushed through the debris.

The Hulk's strong muscles took down the metal doors, his head up and his gaze alert as he cradled Strange in his arms. He continued pushing his way through the alleys to escape the fire and unrelenting smoke. The Hulk cringed angrily over feeling as though he were trapped, roaring out of frustration when he hit a dead end and had to turn back. The monster's massive size trampled over pieces of shrapnel and broken ceiling, his thick hide barely flinching from the shimmering heat of the nearby flames. His emerald gaze narrowed over an area that appeared relatively free of smoke and falling debris. There he forced his way through, gritting his teeth in determination as he took the first opportunity to leave the current area.

The Hulk's bright green eyes glanced around the seemingly quiet corner of the Helicarrier, double and triple-checking to ensure the safety of the area. Carefully he laid Stephen on the ground, circling closely around the sorcerer's limp form while he searched for a safe exit and a better way of escape.

…

Natasha Romanoff leaned her back against the wall, her chest heaving slightly as she struggled to catch her breath. She'd made it back to the top floor in one piece, having to dodge the other agents in their rush to get to safety. Orders had been given to land the ship as soon as possible before the fire ate its way through the hull. This was certainly a sound idea, but knowing that Bruce was down there alone searching for his friend did nothing to ease her conscience. She'd heard the roars announcing the Hulk's breakout and hoped that he'd find his friend in time for them to get out of there. The whole place was a bomb about to go off. If they didn't land soon and get the fire out then they'd all go down in flames.

"Hurry Bruce," she urged, nervousness causing her to pace and wring her hands.

The assassin kept glancing at the clock, dissatisfied with how long her friend had been gone. Romanoff remained hidden in an anteroom, waiting things out while the rest of SHIELD was scrambling outside. She hated waiting around, not knowing what was happening or if her friend was even still alive. After 20 minutes had passed the agitated woman abandoned her hide-out, opting instead to go and search for the Hulk, or Bruce, whichever she found first. Hopefully the physicist had succeeded in freeing that 'Strange' friend of his. Surely they'd be somewhere safe by now. They had to be.

…

Hulk's roars of discontent lessened some, his heavy panting growing more steady as the monster calmed, circling his friend protectively. His eyes stayed soft as his focus looked over the doctor's still form. He cocked his head slightly, concern crossing over his large features. The rage monster was almost afraid over how still Stephen had been. He whimpered in the back of his throat while he watched, waiting for a reaction, a movement, some sign of life.

The sorcerer stirred, blinking as consciousness returned for a moment. His gaze swept the new and unfamiliar surroundings. Stephen glanced upwards, squinting slightly in the brighter light to see a familiar figure looming over him. How the Hulk had gotten here was beyond the sorcerer's comprehension at this point. He swallowed thickly and tried to speak, but nothing more than a dry murmur escaped his lips. Stephen shifted his position, uncomfortable with his wrists still bound behind his back as mutual feeling returned to his sore frame. The Hulk visibly tensed over his movements, and though Stephen couldn't speak he had to wonder how his friend had gotten here and what he planned on doing next.

Hulk made a noise when he saw Stephen's eyes had opened, and then abruptly ran towards the metal walls of the room. His fists pounded into the metal, the monster already planning his escape to avoid heading in back in the direction they had come from. The Hulk winced, screaming through his deep growls as he punctured a large enough hole in the wall for him to step through. He then lifted Strange back up in his arms before pressing onward in a mad dash. The giant planned on getting them out of there, no matter what.

Stephen grit his teeth and bit back a whimper as he was jostled about, being forcibly removed from the ground. His head was throbbing and the rough treatment sent a stabbing pain through his chest and abdomen. He gasped, involuntarily curling in on himself, his upper body straining to protect the wounded area despite his shackles.

"Not so rough Hulk," he mumbled, his eyes slowly drifting closed again as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

The Hulk grunted in response to Stephen's request, trying to loosen his forceful hold on him. He shifted, holding his friend in a manner that the Hulk considered to be 'gentle'. He roared in agitation when Strange slipped from reality once more, desperate when he finally managed to break free and make it out onto the deck of the Helicarrier.

…

Romanoff had just descended to the second floor, having taken a longer route for safety's sake, when she heard the familiar roars of a certain rage monster coming from somewhere overhead. She couldn't help smiling in relief, knowing that the sound meant Bruce had made it out okay. Her hand gripped the cool metal rail as she practically flew back up the stairs.

The assassin ran through the hallways, her hazel gaze searching anxiously for where the Hulk might have gone. She silently prayed that she would be the one to find them before SHIELD did.

…

Hulk's eyes glanced around frantically, feeling more confined on the abandoned deck than he had in any cell he'd explored only moments earlier. His strong arms supported the limp man tenderly while he searched. The Hulk looked out over the edge of the 'carrier, then he hurriedly backed up when he heard approaching footsteps. His gaze went softer once he saw the distant red-head making her way towards them.

"Hey big guy, take it easy I'm a friend," Natasha said softly, raising her hands slightly to appease the rage monster. Her pulse jumped in her throat, that old fear of the Hulk still burning under her skin. Her gaze roved thoughtfully over the man cradled within Hulk's arms, her look softening as she noticed the worry in the monster's eyes. She hadn't thought the creature was capable of feelings, being only made for rage and destruction. But seeing the tender way in which he held his friend Natasha felt that she'd been wrong about him, about both Bruce and his alter-ego, this whole time. She took a small step forward and gently laid a hand over Hulk's taut forearm. "Don't worry Hulk, he's going to be fine." Romanoff didn't really know that but at this point she'd say anything just to keep the creature calm. "You can relax now," she said firmly.

His emerald eyes stayed fixed on hers. Deep inside he trusted the assassin, really they 'both' did. Hulk whimpered slightly, reestablishing eye contact with the Black Widow. "Spider will help Hulk and friend?"

Natasha set her jaw, her eyes hardening in determination. "I'm going to try my best. Your friend looks to be in pretty bad shape, so I'm going to need Bruce's help in making him better." She spoke slowly, keeping her voice low and yet firm so as not to attract unwanted attention. What they really needed to do was get off the Helicarrier before the place exploded or, heaven forbid, Hill caught them.

The giant lowered his gaze to Stephen as though he understood the import of her words. His eyes closed, cringing as his muscles began to contract and return to normal size. The dizzy physicist took an extra step forward, struggling to balance Strange in his arms as he fell to his knees while the green hues gradually blended back to his typical tan skin tone.

Natasha reached out to steady Banner, slowly easing the wearied physicist to his knees and helping him place his bound friend on the ground. She ever so slightly tousled her fingers through Bruce's hair by way of comfort, but quickly removed her contact when he cringed away. The assassin strode around to the front of the doctor, kneeling so she could get at eye-level with him.

"You did it Doc. I'd say congrats but we're not outta the woods yet." As she spoke she looked over the wounded sorcerer, her brows creasing slightly from the obvious damage and mistreatment done to his body. Her hands found their way onto the loose bandage over his chest, peeling back the material some to gauge how bad it was.

She winced, with the little light she had to see by she could tell the wound was deep. Yet what worried her more was the man's refusal to wake up. She felt at his neck for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt its presence, weak but still there. Her hazel eyes found Banner's, her mouth tilting in concern as she said, "We need to get out of here fast Bruce."

"Thanks Miss Romanoff," Bruce nodded over her suggestion, visibly exhausted but determined to help. His eyes expressed obvious fear as he placed his palm over Stephen's forehead, checking for a temperature to treat him for shock. Banner gently took the gauze and rewrapped it tightly over his friend's wound. "Can we get to the jet? I can treat him once we're on board until we get him some proper medical attention."

Romanoff nodded hurriedly, feeling a sense of urgency over this whole situation. Any minute now Hill and her cronies could show up with their guns leveled at them. They were like sitting ducks out here.

"Come on I'll help you get him to the jet, then we're out of here." Natasha looked to Bruce first, then slung an arm over her shoulder to try and balance the weight between them. She heard an audible mumble from Strange upon being jostled, then the next moment he tried weakly pulling from their grasp only to go limp once more. They made their way to the jet as quickly as they were able. Once inside Natasha wasted no time in getting the craft started up, buckling herself in before asking, "Banner, you both secured back there? I'm about to take off and I need you to be strapped down, at least until we're a ways off and the flight gets smoother."

He sighed, holding down Stephen before hopping into the seat he'd previously occupied. "All good Miss Romanoff."

With an angry buzz the jet started up. Natasha skillfully taxied it down the runway, picking up speed before angling the craft upwards and into the air.


	14. Heading to the Tower

Stephen felt a slight jolt, the discomfort pulling him from the darkness once more. He slowly opened his eyes and looked about in confusion, his silver gaze landing on a familiar shabby figure. "Bruce…? How did you-?" he strained to sit up, but a jagged pain shot up his chest and he fell back again, his vision swimming dizzyingly. His breathing picked up in a panic over the unfamiliar surroundings.

Bruce stood up beside him, gently lowering his friend back down into a horizontal position. His voice stayed soft and low while he looked Stephen over. "We're safe, just try to relax. And don't talk so much, save your energy Strange."

His fingers gently took up the fabric from his clothes, holding it with firm pressure over the gaping bullet wound in attempt to stop the bleeding from getting any worse, and then he covered him with a light blanket once he saw how his friend was trembling from shock.

"Stephen we're on our way to get you some real help, just breathe. It'll be alright." His expressive brown eyes revealed the fear he managed to hide in his empathetic voice, the doctor being sincerely worried for his friend as he moved frantically to keep Stephen in a stable position.

The sorcerer could feel the fogginess creeping in at the edges of his mind, threatening to take him over again. He shook his head and forced himself to stay awake despite the heaviness that weighed over his eyelids. "Bruce, I… I'm sorry," he said, grimacing from the throbbing in his chest. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it, that I broke my promise to you."

There was something Stephen needed to tell him. Something important, before it was too late. Stephen shot up as a new sense of urgency filled him, his eyes searching Bruce's in desperation. "Bruce there's something I need to tell you. It's important and just in case I don't make it I need you to promise me something." He spoke in a frenzied rush, a look of fear and concern etched over his haggard features.

Bruce lowered his brows softly in worry, hanging on Stephen's every word. His voice stayed tender, a fragile side of the physicist evident when he saw the pain his friend was in. "Forget it, don't worry about a thing… Stephen talk to me."

"I…" Stephen hesitated, a different kind of pain flickering behind his eyes, the ache of memory, of what he was about to reveal to his friend. "I have a son," he said softly, his eyes closing briefly to hide the pain of sadness and guilt. "If something happens, if I don't make it through, I need someone to be around to protect him for me when the time comes... Bruce there's only one other person I've disclosed this information to, and he has instructions regarding my son and his care, should I not be around when the need arises." Stephen returned Banner's stare, knowing he was holding back from his friend but there was too much to tell and so little time. "He doesn't know about me right now, and he's still living with his mother, where he'll be kept safe until he's old enough to handle the truth of his heritage. Please Bruce, I'm begging you to understand, it was the only way for me to keep him safe," he said, his voice straining from emotion.

He hated feeling weak, hated that he couldn't fight for and protect that which he rightfully should. The world was such a complicated place, and Stephen himself had made it even more complicated with the hard decisions he'd had to make in the past.

Bruce maintained eye contact with his friend, nodding sincerely, "Stephen I swear nothing is going to touch him, you have my word." His gut twisted, the physicist ready to do anything in his power to save his friend. Bruce could only imagine what he must be feeling in that very moment, caught betwixt life and death, and yet fighting still to protect the ones he loved most. Stephen always had a good heart, one that was too precious to lose. Bruce set his jaw, his voice firming in determination. "Alright now you listen to me and breathe. You're going to make it, you're going to be fine."

Stephen jerked his head in a nod, unable to truly express the full gratitude and relief he felt over Bruce's promise. Sharp needle-like pangs pressed over an area near his heart, and in his mind Stephen felt himself slipping. He gritted his teeth and willed himself to fight off the sensation, asking with a slight pant, "Is there any way we could... possibly get these shackles… off of me?"

He looked around, arching his neck slightly to gain a better view of his surroundings. They appeared to be in a jet, which was currently in the air, heading somewhere he knew not. Black spots danced over his vision as he turned back to his friend. He _wouldn't_ give in to the darkness, he refused to.

Bruce leaned over and examined the shackles intently, snatching a loose piece of metal to pick at the latch. Using his scientific instincts he successfully pried it open and freed his friend within the space of a few moments. Bruce held Stephen's wrists gently, rubbing an antiseptic from the medical kit over the cuts and tried to ease the pain somewhat.

Once free Stephen forced himself into a sitting position, his pride refusing him to lie down any longer. He pressed at the wound in his chest and tried to gauge how deep the bullet had gone and what other damage had been caused by its impact.

"Funny thing," he said, huffing a laugh. "I could be my own doctor. Now all I need are some tools." The thought of operating on himself led his thoughts to his hands and what was still contained inside of them. His gaze narrowed sharply as he looked down at his palms spread open, anger sparking over the cruelties and injustices done unto him. "Bruce, I'm going to need something sharp."

His friend jumped up, nodding once before earnestly searching the area. Bruce took up one of Romanoff's slender stray knives and brought it back over to Strange, offering it in his open hand. He lingered, contorting his mouth slightly as he said, "There are towels and sutures in the medical kit. If you can get the bullet out I'll stitch you up afterward."

Stephen's hand wrapped around the proffered blade. He shook his head as he replied, "That can wait for the moment. There's something else…" his brows furrowed in consternation as he gripped the dagger more tightly. "There's something else I have to do first."

He held the knife over his palm, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he gingerly tested the area with the edge of the blade for an ideal place to make the cut. He fought a wave of dizziness, having to shake his head to clear it. Hesitating, he glanced up at Banner. "You may not want to watch," he warned, himself feeling a sickening wrench in his gut over what he was about to do.

Bruce lowered his eyebrows with no intention of moving or turning away while Stephen set up his surgical procedure. He offered a hand, saying, "This can't be worse than helping with a C-section Strange, I can handle it. Just tell me what you need me to do."

The sorcerer shrugged almost nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow as he looked back at his friend. "Fair enough I suppose. You should try neurosurgery sometime, you'd have a blast," he said wryly. A frown creased his lips as he looked over his open palm once more. "No… right now what I need is for you to make sure I don't pass out again, if it's not too much trouble," he said, grinding his teeth slightly as he made the first cut.

Bruce cringed slightly over the initial slice, hovering nearby in case he was needed. He had questions but they would have to wait. Stephen seemed to know exactly what he was doing. "You alright?" he asked.

The first drops of blood appeared and trickled down the side of his hand as Stephen gently eased the blade deeper into his skin. He briefly glanced over at his companion, tersely replying, "Not really. And yourself?"

Bruce shook his head, offering a hand and placing a stray towel under Stephen's procedure. "I'm fine now. What happened to your hands though?"

"SHIELD happened to them, that's what." He flexed his grip, a muscle spasming in his jaw as he tensed over the initial pain. He dug the tip of the blade deeper, feeling for the telltale disc or whatever it was that they had implanted in him. "They needed a way to control me, make me a little less dangerous, so they clipped my wings by planting some form of a magic inhibitor in each of my hands. What I'm assuming is that it blocks the flow of mystic energy between the reservoirs of magic and myself. Still with me?"

Bruce nodded, his eyes fixed on the blade in supervision of his weakened companion. His stomach gave a slight twist over the torn flesh but he firmly remained in the same spot with determination to help. "Yes. Still here."

Stephen couldn't help chuckling over his companion's vague reply. "I meant by following the flow of information," he said with a lopsided grin. There! He could feel the disc just under the point of the knife, slightly giving way from the pressure. Now here was the hard part, getting it out. Stephen winced, giving a small whimper as he sliced deeper into the flesh, trying to dig the thing out with as minimal damage as possible. He sucked in a breath, black spots flitting over his vision as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Almost there… the sorcerer clenched his jaw, determined to get this infernal inhibitor out of his hand.

Banner scrambled for a water bottle, the one Natasha had so kindly thrown at him hours before, and dabbed the ends of the towel with it. He pressed the damp towel to the back of Stephen's neck, trying to keep him from passing out. His voice stayed soft, gaze on the open and bleeding hand as he debated on taking over the procedure. "Breathe Stephen, you're almost there."

"Just, just talk to me Bruce," he said, voice low almost in a growl as he worked at the disc. He felt it give way some, but something was holding it down, keeping it in place. Wires maybe? This was going to be a bit more difficult than he'd anticipated. "How did you get out?"

Still holding steady the hand Strange had chosen to operate on, Bruce sighed lightly, "Well, Natasha sprung me out of prison. Once she helped me break free we went after you."

"Natasha..?" Confusion flitted across Stephen's brow as he tried placing the name. Surely not the assassin who had betrayed them? Sighing, he shook his head in resignation. In the state he was in he certainly wasn't about to complain.

"That's… surprising," he said honestly.

Banner huffed out a breath of air, mulling over her actions as he mumbled, "Not really. There's a heart under that rough exterior." 

The sorcerer couldn't think of a reply to that, so intent was he on the job before him. The disc was slowly easing out, he could just see the flat edge of it from under the skin. If he just made another incision to the left then he'd be able to remove the object. His hand visibly shook from all the abuse being done unto it. Trying to keep his attitude light, Stephen commented dryly, "I'm not sure which is worse, having my hands broken beyond repair or for them to be forcibly cut open in order to get something out of them."

Bruce contorted his mouth in empathy, keeping the loose towel over his neck while he tried to steady Stephen's hand. "There are painkillers in the medical kit when you're ready."

Stephen frowned in concentration, giving Bruce a curt nod of understanding. Not that he really intended on taking the painkillers, that was something he preferred not to do having spent half his time in that prison forced under the influence of drugs. He gave the knife a gentle twist to the left, and was rewarded with the spring of release as the disc popped out of place. Hurrying, almost afraid that he could lose the opportunity, Stephen set the blade down and slowly pulled the flimsy material from his bloody palm. He grimaced as he slid the last of the slender cords and plastic out, then held the reddened material up to the light to inspect it. "Would you look at that," he said softly, brows drawn down in consternation. "I'd be interested in seeing how this thing works… but not today," he said, wrapping it tightly in one of the spare cloths Banner had on hand.

Bruce grimaced as the material was removed from Stephen's flesh, cringing over the pain he must be in. The contraption sparked the physicist's curiosity, however he stayed focused on helping his friend for the time being. "SHIELD obviously didn't spare their resources… let's stitch you back up before you lose any more blood."

"How much more could I possibly lose?" Stephen asked with a small laugh, himself being very much relieved now that he had that thing out. Just one more… one more and he'd be free. He would not die in a cage of someone else's making, that was not even an option for him. Stephen pressed the cloth over the torn flesh in his hand, his heartrate picking up from the rise of adrenals and the extent of hurt his body was going through. The pain didn't matter much to him though, so long as he rid himself of those inhibitors. To cage a sorcerer was a very cruel and inhuman thing to do. He was meant to be free.

"You're right though," he said thoughtfully, holding out his hand. "Please, make it quick."

Bruce nodded and took up the needle and sutures, cleaning the area thoroughly and preparing it accordingly. His careful hands steadied Stephen's own, puncturing the initial four stitches before picking up his pace for the rest.

"Okay, let me help you with your other hand Strange. Please don't pass out on me."

A wry smile crossed the sorcerer's features, his skin already a shade too pale as he replied, "I'll try not to. Thank you Bruce, I really owe you for this."

Banner shook his head, lifting the slender blade carefully over Stephen's other hand after numbing the area. "You've done a lot for me, call this my way of saying thanks. Hold still Doc, just breathe."

Stephen did his best to keep his features even, not wanting to alarm his friend any further than he already had. He distracted himself from the pangs in both his hands and the more pressing ache in his chest by trying to recall those last few moments in that cell. "How did you do it?" he asked Banner, his brow furrowing slightly. "How were you able to control the Hulk enough to save me?"

Bruce made the incision, referring to the opposite hand for example to ensure his cut would be precise and cause a minimal amount of damage. His eyes shifted towards his friend to make eye contact every so often, content as long as Stephen's quick heartbeat remained consistent and his mind stayed alert. He grinned slightly over the question. "It's beyond me. Sometimes when I'm able to transform voluntarily, the Hulk has more control. But honestly Strange, I don't remember anything."

"Then that would make two of us," Stephen muttered, his eyes briefly shutting against all the pain he was experiencing in that one moment. He only knew the Hulk had come for him because of the short burst of awareness that he'd had earlier, when they were still trapped on the Helicarrier. He hardly recalled anything from before or after that. Brief images and sensations were all he had left to memory of this night's ordeal.

The doctor grimaced slightly once he found the metal piece, carefully cutting around the object to begin removing it from Stephen's hand. Bruce's expression changed apologetically when he felt his 'patient' twitch from the pain. "Sorry, it's almost out."

"Just make sure you don't take the rest of my hand with it," Stephen said with a wry grin, his voice almost slurring as he felt darkness closing in and he slipped from reality once more.

Bruce moved at a quicker pace once Stephen lost consciousness, checking for some sort of a pulse or sign of life in his friend before stitching and bandaging his other hand. His voice broke when he called out to their pilot, "We need to get him professional help Miss Romanoff. Where are we flying to?"

From the front of the jet Natasha cursed and set down her radio transmitter, looking over her shoulder to check on her passengers. She replied in a somewhat flustered tone, "I'm bringing us over to Stark Tower, figured that'd be the best place for you both since Stark's your friend. I've been trying to get his attention for the past thirty minutes but the bastard doesn't seem to believe my story."

The radio crackled again, a muffled message coming forth that only the assassin was able to discern. _"Heard that Romanoff, not buying it 'til I talk to Banner myself."_

"Banner, you wanna come up here and talk to him for me before I crash this jet straight into that nice little tower of his?!" she gripped the wheel tighter, trying to breathe through the stress.

Bruce nodded and stepped up to the front to grab the radio, frantic when he tried to get in contact with the engineer. His hand idly rested over the red-head's shoulder, for 'balance' of course.

"Stark! It's me Bruce, I'm with Stephen Strange and Natasha Romanoff… Tony we need help, it's a long story but Stephen's been shot."

_"What the hell?! Bruce that's really you?"_ Came the crackly response from over the transmitter. Natasha rolled her eyes and gave Banner a look, mouthing the words 'Told you he didn't believe me.'

Bruce grabbed the radio and spoke urgently into it, the fear for his friend's life evident in his frantic tone. He was practically shaking. Natasha felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor physicist, but was unsure how she could help other then getting them to the Tower. She bit her lip and faced forward again, silently vowing to throttle Stark if he gave them any of his usual bullshit.

"Alright alright bud, slow it down take it easy," she heard Stark saying from the intercom. "Come right on over I'll get you guys taken care of. Widow you're cleared for entry."


	15. In Which Tony is Almost No Help at All

A/N: Thank you readers RKF22 and JotunChick11 for your continued support :) hope you like this update.

*Warning* Tony is a jerk lol. No surprises there.

"Thank you!" The physicist breathed a sigh of relief, running his fingers through his hair as he handed the radio back to Natasha. Then he turned back around, checking his friend's vitals and preparing to get him off the jet.

"Kay Doc, hold what you got we're about to land," Natasha warned, gritting her teeth as she adjusted their speed, the jet giving a slight jump of resistance to her efforts. She had to angle the jet just right or they'd miss their stop altogether and end up crashing the whole damn thing. "You guys okay back there?"

Slowly, she eased it down onto the landing pad of the Tower, the craft skidding a bit before coming to a complete stop. She breathed a sigh of relief and released her death grip on the wheel.

Bruce scooped his friend up carefully once she landed, eyes frantic towards her though he tried to remain calm. "Nice landing. Give me a hand Natasha?" He eased Strange upward a little once the red-head climbed into the back to help him lift the unconscious sorcerer.

Natasha propped the door of the jet open, then helped Bruce shift the weight of his friend between them as they headed out of the aircraft.

Her gaze scanned the empty roof of the Tower, searching for the engineer. "Dammit Tony get your ass up here," she growled, sensing the distress from her companion.

"Someone call my name?" a sardonic voice asked.

Banner glanced up, steadily growing more and more impatient. "Stark, you've got about five minutes to get over here and help before the Other Guy destroys your roof. Please!"

"Do I get to choose which half of the roof you destroy?" Tony Stark chuckled as he lazily strode up towards his friend, an unconscious sorcerer, and the Black Widow. "Jeez you weren't kidding me were you?" he said as he looked the group over. Seeing the urgency in Bruce's gaze he decided to cut the crap and move into a more helpful mode. He waved Romanoff back, pulling Strange's limp arm over his own shoulder and hefting some of the weight.

"I gotta say," Tony grunted as he led the way down into the tower. "You three make one 'strange' group. You're not thinking of making a team right? Because, it doesn't look like it'd work out. How you holdin' up bud?" Tony glanced over at Bruce, brief concern flickering in his gaze. "Haven't heard from you in awhile…"

The doctor shook his head in a brief reply, focus vague and hazy. "I'm not, thanks for asking though… Stephen's got a bullet in his chest but I can't remove it until he's stable. Think we could crash the lab for a few hours?"

Tony visibly brightened over the request, beyond eager to get back in the lab with his friend. "Sure. Never worked on a live specimen before but…" he shifted the sorcerer's weight slightly, smirking over at Strange who was still out cold. "I'm sure Stephen won't mind."

Banner scoffed lightly, keeping a straight face. "Oh I do it all the time… and you might want to shut your radars, any tracking devices really. We're not exactly on the friendliest of terms with SHIELD at the moment."

Natasha was walking behind the group, following closely with her eyes narrowed between them. One could hear the hint of nervous anxiety in her voice when she chimed in, "An understatement. Just keep us off the map Stark."

"I didn't hear you say 'please'," Stark needled, but at a look from Bruce he sighed in resignation, pouting slightly when he said, "Alright… no tracking devices, radars, or other fun stuff. You must have really pissed them off. Do I even want to ask how?"

Tony let go of Strange for a minute as he quickly typed in the pass-code to access the labs. He ushered Bruce in, then blocked Romanoff in the doorway with a hand. "Science bros only beyond this point Romanoff, go get your own sorcerer." He smirked and closed the door behind him, then went and cleared a space for them to operate on Stephen.

Bruce lowered his friend down carefully, far too focused on helping Stephen to notice much else; how he remembered every inch of that room, pacing about with ease. He had the drawers memorized, each instrument and tool… it felt like home. After washing his hands and preparing to operate he hovered over Strange, checking his pulse and satisfied that it was present at least. His eyes flicked upward for a moment, brows lowered as he asked, "Where's Natasha?"

Tony was at the computer, busy shutting down all traceable hardware and systems. "Ohh, I sent her off on an errand," he said, cracking a grin when he turned back to Bruce. He walked around the table, looking over the sorcerer currently unconscious on the lab table. He whistled lowly, "Looks like he got hit pretty bad. You know Bruce, I truly am curious as to how in the hell Strange got this way. He doesn't go down easy from what I know of him." He leaned back against the counter, handing Bruce a syringe. "Might want that in case he wakes up."

The doctor nodded, sizing up Stephen's injuries before removing the cloth and bandages to examine the wound. He mumbled, mentally eliminating details. "We got caught up with the wrong crowd, SHIELD got to him for God knows how long… I feel awful, it's my fault. I need to remove this bullet Tony, it looks pretty deep."

The engineer uttered a curse, rubbing a hand over his jaw before stepping up beside the physicist. "You sure you know what you're doing Bruce?" he asked, for once taking the situation seriously. He couldn't deny that he was maybe just _a little_ worried about Stephen, but the engineer knew him well enough that he figured Stephen'd bounce back in no time. "Just tell me what to do. It's like a mad science experiment, maybe we can give him an arc reactor to match my own."

Bruce swiped a hand over his skin to brush the start of sweat building up on his forehead. "Yes I know what I'm doing just trust me… he can't live the rest of his life with a bullet in his chest. I want to run a scan for the exact location, for any organ damage, check his lungs… is that computer fired up?"

"Yup," Tony leaned over and angled the screen to face his friend. He tapped at his arc reactor nervously, feeling something like a third wheel in the equation.

Dr. Banner circled around to the other end, head tilting as he planned his next move. "Hand me the scanner Tony, please? And help me keep him stable, keep tabs on his pulse and his vitals for me. This isn't going to be easy."

"Sure thing." Tony passed Bruce the device then stepped up next to his friend, pushing back the sleeves of his shirt. He rubbed his hands together and gave Banner a look. "So… question. Do sorcerers have normal vitals? Same pulse same rhythm? 'Cause, honestly, this guy is anything but _normal_."

Bruce gave Tony a look, barely glancing at him from the corner of his gaze. "He's not an alien Tony," he mumbled.

The engineer lifted his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender. "Just asking, 'cause you never know… this is a _strange_ guy after all," he said, grinning smugly.

The physicist continued to ignore Tony's sarcasm, eyes focused on the screen while he scanned Stephen's limp frame. He pointed from a distance and said, "Look, see it Tony? It's right there. He got lucky, missed his heart by an inch."

"Something tells me luck had nothing to do with it," Tony muttered, eyeing the monitor.

"I really just need you to limit my stress and be serious for a few minutes. If I lose it this is over for everyone in the room okay?" Bruce rubbed his forehead, his head pounding from anxiety now that he was aware of how intricate this project would be.

Tony pursed his lips, gaze searching that of his brown-eyed friend's as he weighed the seriousness of the situation. Which, right now Bruce looked pretty damn serious to him.

"Alright," he said, looking away as a muscle twitched in his jaw. "You got me, I'll shut up just tell me what to do."

Strange better be happy when this was all over with, Tony thought begrudgingly. He didn't open up his lab to just anyone. Especially people with magic powers that freaked him out more than a little bit.

Bruce nodded, satisfied with his answer. He was aware of this being out of character for the sarcastic billionaire. "Thank you Tony… Okay I need a blade, a slender knife would work best. The bullet has got to come out. Also we should put him on oxygen."

Tony threw his hands up, muttering as he abruptly turned away to search the lab for the specific blade Banner had asked for. "What am I, a miracle worker?" he grumbled, keeping his tone at a minimum though. He returned, handing Bruce the slender blade and an extra scalpel on hand. "Bruce this isn't a hospital, I don't have random emergency junk lying around that I can just go and find at my convenience." He said, trying to keep his voice even. "I'll do what I can but… I'm sure you'll do fine Bruce, I'm with you all the way. I just, I don't have everything you need. If it comes down to it we'll call an ambulance for him."

The physicist snatched the tools abruptly. "If you call an ambulance we'll have to give them information, and with SHIELD hot on his tail that can't end well… Just keep me calm please. I've got this." Bruce held the blade, keeping it steady as he skillfully sliced into Stephen's chest, taking care to open the smallest gap possible to remove the bullet. His delicate fingers worked carefully around the weakened area, eager to seal the incision and end the procedure that was only half over. Once he'd worked the bullet out he covered the tear with a cloth, pressing on the area while his other hand dropped the metal object on the table. "Okay, I know you have sutures lying around Tony, I stitched you up almost on a weekly basis when I was here."

"Right, right…" Tony mumbled, waving his hand dismissively while he walked off to go dig around through more drawers for the necessary materials. He also grabbed a clean rag and ran it under warm water to help clean the blood off of Strange. Tony dumped the needle and stitching on the table next to Bruce, then wavered over his shoulder waiting for his next instruction. "If he stops breathing… I'm not doing mouth-to-mouth. Sorry Stephen. I owe ya one but that would be taking it too far."

Bruce exhaled a heavy sigh, choosing to tune out the engineer as he set up for the stitches. His careful hands worked diligently over the intricate cut, deftly weaving the needle in and out. Once his job was nearly done Bruce allowed himself to relax a bit, teasing slightly, "Your kindness is overwhelming. And what if I stopped breathing? Would you let me die too? That's rhetorical."

Tony huffed out a laugh. "Glad to see your dry sarcasm is returning," he said, briefly ruffling Bruce's curls before pulling back, knowing how his friend didn't appreciate physical contact too much. "And you're different Bruce. You know I'd save you, there isn't anything that could stop me from helping my science bro." He was getting uncomfortable with all this mushy conversation so he quickly changed the subject. "So… you never really told me what happened. I mean, it's obvious what Stephen here was doing," he said, blithely gesturing at the man in question. "Probably mouthing off and getting himself shot. Where were you in all this?"

Bruce smirked at the assumption over Stephen mouthing off. The doctor shifted nervously when he recalled his own bitter circumstances. "I uh, I was in New Mexico… with Ross."

The engineer had been idly tapping a pen on the counter, but his pointless movements ceased when he heard Bruce's words. At first he drew a blank, only feeling a sense of shock and being stunned to silence for several moments. Then he felt anger, and suspicion, wondering how Bruce had ended up there and what the hell was being done about it.

"Won't that low-life just leave you alone?! What did he want this time? Does it matter? Bruce I'm sick and tired of you having to run all over creation just to get away from that general! How did this happen?"

The doctor shrugged, using the towel to clean over his handiwork. He stayed vague, choosing to eliminate details. "SHIELD set up a trap, told us you were in trouble… Tony I've been running for years, I might as well just accept the fact that it's not going to change."

"You shouldn't have to live with that crap though! Bruce it's not something you can just accept," Tony said, sounding almost desperate as he set his jaw. "And I'm certainly not going to accept it. You have a life and you should be able to live it without someone tracking your every step."

Bruce snapped, the stress of his recent capture and the pressure of keeping Stephen alive slowly becoming too much to handle. His eyes widened slightly, letting down his guard for a moment and showing his inner feelings for his closest friend. "What life Tony?! I have nothing! And damn it I can't even use it to protect the people that matter most to me! Ross is right, I've been hearing the same thing for years. I'm a threat." He released an exasperated sigh, trying to breathe while he kept his fingertips over Strange's slow and flitting pulse.

"Easy, easy," Tony said, making soothing gestures to calm the doctor. "I'm sorry Bruce. I didn't, I-" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You had a life here bud, and you left it behind." Tony turned away, avoiding eye contact with his friend and blinking away the feeling of sadness and rejection he felt right then. "I guess I still don't understand why."

Bruce covered his mouth over Tony's words, mumbling in answer before stepping away from the table and the unconscious sorcerer. "I don't know Tony. It's not you, you-" he huffed out an exhale, something akin to a nervous laugh. "We were probably the only ones that could tolerate each other. I guess, I just felt like I didn't belong. And God forbid Ross ever lay a hand on you guys… I couldn't handle that. For me it's better to just be alone."

Tony opened his mouth to speak but another, much more tired and weary-sounding voice, cut in.

"That's where you're wrong Bruce. No one should have to be alone."

Tony almost flinched when he saw Stephen move, completely not expecting a reaction from him. He crossed his arms, glaring slightly. "You weren't invited to this conversation. Go back to sleep Strange."

A soft grin spread over Banner's fragile features. He felt a heavy weight lift from off his shoulders seeing his friend awake and alive. "Stephen, you're alright," he sighed.

"For now," Stephen said with a cough as he propped himself on his elbows. His eyes squeezed shut briefly against the sudden tearing pain, but glancing down he was satisfied to see that the wound had been taken care of. He nodded over to Stark, having already come to the conclusion of his current whereabouts considering the billionaire's presence. "Nice to see you too Tony."

Bruce released a light sigh. "Tony was kind enough to offer a hand while I stitched you up. Stephen I have painkillers I need you to take. Just relax and try to stay calm."

Stephen dropped his head back onto the table, sighing to himself. "It's okay Bruce, I'm fine… thank you, both of you."

"Yeah well don't get used to it Strange. I paid you back so now we're even." Tony said, raising an eyebrow and shifting his weight slightly.

Banner shook his head, glancing between the two of them. He ran a hand through his thick curls. "_Even_? Do I want to know?"

"Maybe some other time."

"Sure why not?" Tony and Stephen both answered at the same time.

Tony glared. "Yeah Stephen, tell him all about the time you tried saving my life, and then, once again, ended up bleeding all over the place. Seems to be a common theme for you," he snickered.

"You're so childish."

Bruce took a small step back, eyes shifting between the both of them. He grinned slightly, arms crossed while he listened to them bicker. "Okay, might as well just tell me now."

"Oh, Tony already told you all the good parts," Stephen said, grimacing as he eased himself off of the table. He swayed somewhat as he reached out a hand to steady his balance on the desk. He shook his head, still feeling slightly out of it.

Tony looked away, suddenly feeling a little bad for the guy. "He's right. What good ol' Mr. Supreme here needs is a good set of armor. Then maybe he wouldn't get hurt all the time." Tony nodded towards Stephen. "Unless you're just accident prone. Then armor might not be very helpful in your case."

Stephen laughed, still sounding hoarse and looking visibly pale as he tried recovering himself. "At this point, I sometimes have to wonder about that myself."

Bruce reached out a hand to help Stephen steady himself. "Well if that's the case then I can definitely relate. Tony you're not exactly off the injured list all the time either."

"Thanks Bruce. Always nice knowing you have my back," Stark said, snarky attitude back and in full force. "Okay Stephen, before you pass out again 'cause you look about ready to, living quarters are situated in the top floors. You'll be staying here for awhile until I've got a better grip on your whole 'fling' with SHIELD and what we should do about it. And I don't want any of your magic tricks in the labs. Got it?"

The sorcerer rolled his eyes. "I'm not your pet Tony. I can take care of myself."

Bruce narrowed his focus, arching a brow as he addressed his friend. "Tony's offering and I think you should stay. Wait until you can sit up properly without passing out and until SHIELD takes a break from looking for you."

Stephen felt his heartrate climbing as a sense of panic washed over him from the thought of being caged again. He couldn't be, he couldn't allow it to happen again. The walls seemed to be closing in, tightening around him in a bitter confinement. The irony of his situation was not lost on the sorcerer. He'd left one cage only to be put in another, hadn't he? With SHIELD out there looking for him there was no telling how long he'd have to lie low, healing and recovering his strength until Maria gave up looking for him or dropped the case altogether.

The idea of hiding and waiting things out didn't exactly appeal to Stephen.

At least he had friends here… Well, Bruce was his friend. Stark didn't seem to like him much but that was how he'd always been towards the magician. Stephen rubbed a hand over his face, keeping his features mutual. "I… thank you for the offer. I just-" he shook his head. "You wouldn't understand," he muttered, and gathering what strength he had he walked out the door of the lab.

It was too confined in that room. He felt like he couldn't breathe in there… much too claustrophobic for his liking. Stephen paced the length of the corridor, running a hand through his hair as he fought off the dizziness that threatened to overtake him again. He would stay until he was healed and had his strength back, but after that he'd be gone.

There were things that needed attending to…


	16. Tensions Rise

**Yay two chapters in one day! RKF22, please don't kill me :) the next chapter has more of Bruce and Natasha in it, lot's to look forward to in the coming chapters. We might even squeeze another hulk-out in here somewhere...**

When the door to the labs opened Natasha leapt at the opportunity, slipping the ball of her foot into the half-closed door. Crossing her arms, her features masked and unreadable she said, "What sarcastic remark did Stark bite back with this time? Stephen looks pissed."

"Sarcastic remark? Nice Widow. More like I offered him a place to stay while he's recovering. Doesn't seem too grateful about it. Maybe he's mad and wants to go back to SHIELD." Tony leaned back into the counter, loosely crossing his own arms as he addressed the agent.

Natasha ground her teeth, eyes focused intently on the engineer before shifting her glance towards Banner. "If you asked him in the same tone you just answered me with, I don't blame him for wanting to turn down your offer."

The physicist shrugged, looking between Tony and the red-head as he said, "That's not the point Natasha, Stephen needs to lie low for a bit and recover. That's why he should stay here until SHIELD backs off."

She lifted an eyebrow, turning her hazel stare on him. "Yes, that may be true but Stark has more of a habit of chasing people away. He's not exactly the 'welcoming' type."

"You know, the funny thing is I don't remember 'asking' him," Tony said pointedly. "I just told him what to do. That's the way I do things around here, so you both had better get used to it."

Natasha tilted her head towards Stark. "Yeah, just like that."

Bruce shook his head. "Guys just stop it. Stephen's a very independent person, it has nothing to do with Tony's… hospitality."

Tony snickered, circling around to the other side of Banner. "See? I had nothing to do with it. Thanks Bruce," he patted the doctor on the back. "Knew I could count on you to back me up. Now, why is it you're here again?" he asked, tilting his head as he looked towards the red-haired assassin.

Natasha released a sigh. "To take care of your friends, since you're so terrible at it yourself. Strange needed emergency care. And Dr. Banner should be looked after, I don't know yet what Ross has up his sleeve."

Bruce was quick to chime in his protests. "Wait a minute, no Natasha I don't-"

"Stark?" she raised an eyebrow, looking for backup. Bruce would listen to his best friend before anyone else.

The doctor was shaking his head, saying, "No, no thank you."

Tony glanced between the two of them, his lips pressed to a thin line as he considered whose side to take on the matter. With mention of Ross and the veiled possibility that the crazed general might come after Bruce too, it was an easy decision for the billionaire.

"As much as I hate to say it Bruce, she's right. I need you to stay here for awhile bud, kay? At least until the heat dies down. Shouldn't be too hard… You've got the lab back, you got me your ol' buddy ol' pal ol' friend. C'mon it's Candyland here."

The doctor sighed over the defeat, his head tilting appreciatively. He was hesitant to answer when he mumbled, "That's nice of you Tony but I can't. What if Ross showed up here? That puts you guys in danger-"

Natasha lowered her brows angrily, looking to protect her friend at all costs. "Bruce will you just shut up and let Stark help you? The tower is safe doc so just stop. Stark is used to hiding from the army."

Bruce shook his head, still arguing, "I just-"

Natasha turned towards Stark, planting a hand on her hip. "Same bedroom he had before? I'll turn up the thermostat for him."

The engineer nodded in a brief show of gratitude, watching as the red-head departed the room before turning his gaze back on his friend. "Don't worry Bruce, no one's going to touch you. You've got my word on that." He hesitated, swallowing thickly before saying, "It's good to have you back." Man what he really wanted to do was pull his friend into a hug right then and there, but Bruce would never let him and he'd appreciate it even less.

Anyone could pick up on the doctor's anxiety, but deep inside, Bruce was happy to be home. His head lowered as he shoved his hands into his pockets, mouth contorting slightly as he said, "Thanks Tony, it means a lot to me."

"And you know I'll do all that I can to make this place home for you. We can start by trolling Stephen around." Tony was smirking broadly, already backing up towards the door of the lab. "And if_ you-know-who _acts up, we can always sic the Hulk on him."

Bruce rolled his eyes and smirked, stepping up to hold the door open for them. "Oh boy, just like old times… I'm already scared."

…

Stephen had wandered the tower, barely keeping himself steady while he burned off his anger over Stark and his 'offer'. Why not just lock him up in prison then? Or hand him back over to SHIELD? Both were bitter options that Stephen wasn't really considering, his thoughts just angry and defensive from the stress built up over the past several days. Stark always managed to get under his skin, no matter what the situation was. The two just didn't get along very well, if at all. Which is probably why the two weren't often seen working together.

He sighed, retreating further into the tower in his search for isolation. He needed rest, and a place where he could think without being harassed by the egotistical Tony Stark. However, confined here in the billionaire's tower Stephen knew he'd be hard-pressed to come by those needs.

His head pounding, the sorcerer leaned into the wall for a moment, silently regretting that he hadn't taken Banner up on his offer for painkillers. His wounded pride had gotten in the way and now he was certainly paying for it.

"Jarvis," he gasped, his vision swimming slightly as he addressed the tower's artificial intelligence. "This is Dr. Stephen Strange, I'm here as a …guest, upon Mr. Stark's insistence. I need you to direct me to the room I'm supposed to be staying in," he winced as a flare of pain traveled up his side. "Please."

The sorcerer felt somewhat foolish standing there seemingly talking to the air, but a moment later he was rewarded with the AI's crisp reply.

"The room you are looking for is located on the floor above you, Dr. Strange," the AI said politely. "I have already arranged for your needs per Mr. Stark's courteous instruction." It was hard to miss the dry note of disdain heard in the AI's disembodied voice when he mentioned the billionaire.

Once he ascended the next level the AI gave Stephen further instructions, which the sorcerer himself was very grateful for considering his state and the unfamiliarity he had with his surroundings. The room he entered was nicely furnished and on the border of luxuriant, Stark obviously having spared no expense when he designed the place. Stephen barely noticed any of this, just closing his eyes tiredly and curling up on the bed to try and catch some rest. Pain spasmed through his chest, but he did his best to ignore it just hoping that he wouldn't have to deal with Stark again for a few more hours. It was hard enough that Stephen was wounded and confined until SHIELD chose to back off, but it was worse when he felt like a complete stranger among those he called his friends.

…

Later there was a gentle knock at the door of Stephen's current room. Dr. Banner's voice was soft when he called out for the sorcerer. "Stephen? Are you okay? Can I come in?"

From inside the room Stephen shifted, waking at the slightest noise from outside. He lifted his head and looked about, feeling slightly at a loss for a moment as he tried to place his surroundings. When he heard Banner's voice from the other side of the door he quickly rose, as best he could, and opened the door for the physicist.

"Sorry… er, just trying to stay out of the way," he mumbled, rubbing a palm over his face tiredly.

Bruce sighed over Stephen's response and shoved his hands into his pockets. He shifted his weight slightly, ensuring that he carried sufficient pain medication in his pockets. Strange was stubborn but Bruce thought he might as well be ready to offer. "Can I come in?" he asked again.

Stephen didn't reply, just held the door open wider and gestured for the doctor to come in. He took a few steps back, disappearing into the adjoining bathroom for a moment, and then reappearing a few seconds later after running a washrag under the faucet.

"Need something Banner?" he asked, looking away while he washed the blood and smoke residue from his face and hands.

Bruce shook his head as he entered the room, keeping his hands in his pockets as he looked around before resting his gaze on his friend. "I don't want anything Stephen, just wanted to make sure you were holding up okay."

Stephen looked down at the towel clasped in his hands, his brows furrowed in thought. "I'm… I'm fine," he said quietly, unsure of what else he was supposed to say. "Again, thank you for getting me out of there. Both of you," he said pointedly, indicating Banner's other half. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep his voice steady.

The physicist bit his lip, mouth contorted as he nodded. Stephen seemed less than up for any sort of conversation. Bruce softened his tone, trying to remain supportive. "You're welcome. And, let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."

Stephen visibly hesitated, weighing his words before he said, "You could give me an idea of what I'm supposed to do around here." He smirked to soften the words somewhat, tossing the wet cloth back on the counter in the bathroom. "I get the feeling that all your friends are a bit afraid of me. I find that… amusing," he said dryly.

Bruce huffed out a laugh, head low when he smirked, saying, "I think they are. Just a little. Probably afraid of what they can't understand."

"Probably," Stephen murmured, his thoughts turning to Director Hill and her hostile behavior towards him. He wondered if she would ever give up the chase. "Well Bruce, I have to say you did a wonderful job stitching me back up. Couldn't have done it better myself, considering…" he shrugged, vaguely lifting his hands in a gesture. As he spoke he gave them a slight flex, feeling the familiar sensation of magic thrumming just beneath the surface of his skin. What a relief to know he had it back. Raising an eyebrow, he chose to test out his abilities by forming a shirt out of thin air, and was quite satisfied with the results. "Looks like everything's back in working order too," he said happily, pulling the shirt on over his head. "For which I owe you Bruce. I owe you very much."

Bruce smiled at his friend, happy to have helped him. The glow in Stephen's state was worth every ache and worry. "You don't owe me anything. I think we're even Strange."

Stephen sighed resolutely. "In my book, there's no such thing as being even. And I should know. But enough about me," he sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his knees as he looked back up at Bruce. "I want to hear more about what happened with Ross."

Bruce's smile vanished instantly. He tugged at the back of his neck, looking somewhat nervous. "Ross is just Ross, Stephen. It's the same thing just a different day." He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the pills within his pocket. "Want some painkillers? I can only imagine what you're feeling."

A shadow passed over Stephen's features, his frame tensing as he heard the anxiety in his friend's voice. Ross would not go unpunished, that much was certain. Stephen fully intended to keep that promise he'd made to Bruce. Now he just needed a little more information… perhaps that red-haired agent could provide him the necessary intel?

Stephen stood up, pacing some before stopping before his friend. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought up a sore subject. It's not my place." He swallowed, thinking over Bruce's offer of medication. A part of him wanted it but he wasn't too trusting of his wants right then. The pain, at least, was a reminder that he was alive. He liked reminders, no matter the cost.

Picking up on Stephen's wavering expression, the physicist handed over the capsules regardless. "I'll leave them with you in case you change your mind. Can I do anything else Stephen?"

The sorcerer shook his head, gaze withdrawn and his mouth set in a grim line as his thoughts turned to darker themes. What to do about Ross and SHIELD…

"Get yourself some rest Bruce," he placed a gentle hand on the doctor's shoulder, giving him a sincere look. "You've done a lot, and I can tell you're beyond exhausted. It'd be good for you."

Bruce tensed up over the initial contact that he wasn't particularly content with, but his muscles gradually eased up, his clear exhaustion stopping him from flinching or pulling away. The doctor nodded over his friend's advice before turning to head out of the room.

"Thanks Stephen."


	17. Love is an Open Door

**A/N: Thank you readers and reviewers! Love the support!**

**JotunChick11, so glad you were able to catch up :) you leave, ah, very interesting reviews ;)**

**RKF22, thanks for your reviews so much :) um, sorry to disappoint but... Stephen doesn't exactly get the chance to speak with Natasha :/**

**Guest, thank you so much good friend for reading my story! Yes, there is more coming, much, much more... mwehehe**

One day had passed since their arrival at the tower, a whole day in which Stephen spent his time lying low, recovering his strength, and planning. There was much intricacy in the things he hoped to accomplish regarding SHIELD and the infamous Thaddeus Ross, of which Stephen knew he needed to tread carefully on the matter until he felt his plan was sufficient to act upon. He kept all these thoughts to himself, knowing Banner well enough that he would try and stop him, and Stark would just insist his own way thus foiling Stephen's carefully laid plans. No, it was definitely better that he keep this to himself.

It was the morning of the second day, and since he'd emerged from his room around dawn the reclusive sorcerer had spent his time in the kitchen, borrowing some of Banner's herbal tea and fixing himself breakfast. Afterward he was seated comfortably at the table with a cup of tea nearby, having a ridiculous argument with the sarcastic AI. Unfortunately, Tony Stark chose to walk in at that moment.

"There's no chance you're going to win Stephen, Jarvis already won." The engineer hopped onto the counter, reaching for a bag of dried cranberries. He stuffed a handful into his mouth before talking again. "So aside from pointlessly harassing my current residence are you soaking in every moment of my awesome company?"

"Not really. The only thing that could possibly make you 'awesome' in my book is if you'd learn to be quiet," Stephen muttered, resting his head on his arms and sighing discontentedly. "I hope for your sake that Banner shows up soon."

Tony huffed out an almost sarcastic chuckle. "Impossible. Not even Banner could cover your ass." Stark grinned with a mumble when he saw his friend heading towards them. "Hey Brucey boy!"

The physicist glanced between the two of them, waiting in the center of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. "I'm picking up on more tension," he said dryly.

"What gave you that impression?" Stephen asked innocently, tilting his head slightly as he regarded Bruce. Discreetly he directed a broom to approach Tony from behind, keeping it out of the billionaire's line of sight. With one of his hands under the table Stephen made a tapping motion against his thigh, and from across the room the handle of the broom tapped on Stark's shoulder. Stephen chuckled quietly to himself, trying to keep his smirking hidden from the engineer.

Stark jumped, throwing his hands up and the bag of cranberries went flying across the kitchen. "Holy crap!"

Bruce rolled his eyes, heading further into the room. "Come on Stephen…"

Stephen's mouth turned down in a mock pout. "Jealous of his treatment? I suppose I could find something around here for you too…" he mumbled, gaze searching the area of the kitchen. The broom he'd imbued with 'life' was still following Tony around, despite the engineer's protests and vain attempts to fend the wayward object off. Clearly it was agitating the man.

With a defeated sigh Stephen redirected the object back to its original place, then slumped in his seat again with his head in his arms. He was bored, and being used to an active lifestyle this was not a good thing for him.

Tony lifted his forefinger, mumbling under his breath, "I- I really hope you appreciate me letting you stay."

Bruce shook his head as he poured himself a cup of tea. "Would anyone else want anything?"

The sorcerer cracked a devilish grin for the engineer, happy for the moment at having teased him. At Banner's question Stephen jerked up, an idea suddenly coming to him. "Bruce do you still have those things… the discs that we got out of my hands?" he looked pointedly at Tony, brows furrowing in thought. "I'd very much like to investigate those."

There was only one person Stephen knew that was capable of even designing something so intricate, and that man happened to be standing right across from him.

Bruce shrugged. "Yeah I think they're on the Quinjet Natasha brought us in. Why? Do you want them?" His brows lowered curiously as he tried making eye contact with his friend.

Stark contorted his mouth. "Discs? What the heck?"

"Yes… they were an interesting combination of metal and plastic, something SHIELD had designed to control me." Stephen said, his tone low and his gaze locked hard on the engineer. He stood up, going over to the sink and placing his cup down before turning back to face Banner. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. "I do want them. And maybe Stark here should have a look at them too. They might be right up his alley..."

Stark huffed out a laugh, crossing his arms and raising a derisive eyebrow. "I'm not touching anything that was ever inside those creepy hands of yours and there's no way you could make me."

"Actually I _could_ make you if I wanted," Stephen responded, muscles tightening ever so slightly as he glared the other man down.

Bruce tilted his head, expression longsuffering and looking slightly exhausted. "You know guys, things would be a lot easier if you two would stop picking on each other."

There was a possibility that Stark was the one who started all this, perhaps even subconsciously but Stephen wanted to know for sure regardless. If the magic inhibitors SHIELD had used were of Stark's original design then the sorcerer felt he had a right to know what Stark was doing creating things like that. He tried breathing evenly, forcing his stance to relax slightly after Bruce's weary comment.

Tony opened his mouth, narrowing his eyes in anger, "You can't make me do anything!"

Bruce rolled his eyes a second time, smothering a groan as he lowered his cup and addressed Stark. "Tony! Stephen! Enough already! Please, I can't handle it." He turned back to the doctor. "Strange I'll get those metal pieces if you stop bothering Stark. And Tony, just help him out for a half hour. Who knows, you might find it fascinating."

The engineer grumbled, eyeing Stephen with a look of pure discontent in his eyes. He dropped his arms and sighed dramatically, giving in for Bruce and Bruce only. "Fine! Come on Genie."

…

The dark-haired physicist paced into the familiar common room with his eyes low and a warm mug in his hands. Warm tea and a good book sounded particularly appealing, something he hadn't treated himself to in a long while and was much overdue. His eyes scanned over the options laid out on the coffee table, the image on the cover sparking his curiosity enough to want to read the title. He tapped the front pocket of his button down to feel for his glasses, replacements that Tony had procured only recently, and pulled them out once he saw that the hardcover book was on Physics.

Bruce found a place on the sofa, setting his tea on the table and picking up the reading material. His brown eyes soaked in every word, skimming through until he found something interesting enough to mentally pull apart and dissect. He found he was enjoying himself for the time being, glad that Tony and Stephen were otherwise occupied and he wouldn't have to separate them for awhile. Hopefully.

Natasha was just roaming the tower, not really having an intended direction though a part of her hoped she could find someone to talk to. When she passed by the door of the living room she was pleasantly surprised to find Banner in there, looking fully absorbed with his nose in a textbook. Smirking to herself, the agent leaned into the doorway a bit and knocked lightly on the frame to get the doctor's attention.

"Hey," she said, striding into the room.

His focus flicked upward, smiling slightly over her unexpected presence.

"Hey. How are you Miss Romanoff?" He went back to finish reading the rest of his page, then placed his thumb in between the pages and closed the book over it to mark his place. He leaned forward, ready to take a break and perhaps talk to the master assassin if she so desired.

The red-head loosely crossed her arms over her chest, then leaned her hip into the armchair for support as she replied, "I'm fine. To be honest a bit tired of everyone tip-toeing around each other. I thought all you guys were supposed to be friends."

Bruce laughed, slipping the glasses from his face as he sat back. He nibbled the ear of the frame to his lenses nervously. "Touché. Well, I'm friends with Stephen and I'm friends with Tony but, uh, they don't exactly see eye to eye."

Natasha grunted, a soft smirk curving her lips. "I can see that. Too much testosterone if you ask me. Looks like it's annoying the hell out of you having to keep track of them."

His smirk widened. "You're observant. Quiet but you don't miss a thing." Bruce reached for his warm mug and nodded towards the red-head. "You want anything? Tea, or coffee?"

The woman shook her head, allowing herself to relax a bit and reveal a softer side of her that few rarely saw, if ever. "No, thank you. I'm good. Other than babysitting how you holdin' up?"

Bruce lowered his eyebrows, somewhat thrown by this show of tenderness coming from the agent. He took a minute, making sure he'd heard her correctly before answering, "I'm alright. Thanks… and uh, you're surviving alright with three other men in the house?" he lifted his hands expressively. "I mean, I trust they don't bother you too much."

Natasha huffed out a laugh, looking down before glancing back up at Bruce. "I've been in worse situations. Honestly this is the least of my worries. It's actually entertaining to watch Stark and your friend bash heads. They really, really, don't like each other."

Banner bowed his head again, feeling like an idiot in front of the master assassin and silently kicking himself. "Um, any word from SHIELD?"

She frowned slightly, pondering Bruce's other question. "SHIELD? Sort of… I've been blocking Maria's calls. You could say we had a bit of a falling out so it shouldn't surprise her if I'm not talking."

Bruce nodded in reply, running his fingers through his thick hair while he thought over her answers.

"Natasha? Can I ask you something? Two things actually." He rested his elbows on his knees, fingers clasping together. "First off, did you know what SHIELD and Ross had in mind when you misled Stephen and me?"

Natasha felt the blood draining from her face. Her pulse started beating an erratic rhythm in her throat, and she had to look away before answering. "I- Bruce, truthfully I had no idea what they'd planned for you. All I knew was that SHIELD was after Stephen and they needed military backup to get him detained. I'm sorry," she swallowed, gripping her hands tightly to get her focus in line. "I never thought to question what they wanted with you. I thought you were part of the ploy. All SHIELD ever told me was that your sorcerer friend was a threat that needed to be dealt with. I… I didn't even think to ask about you, until after." All Bruce had been was a liability, she thought, feeling a fresh wave of guilt.

"You didn't know Natasha, you were just doing what you were told." The doctor bit his lip, eyes soft as he tilted his head to look at her. Bruce was picking up on her emotions, restraining every cell in his body from wrapping his arms around her. He was pretty sure Natasha wouldn't be too keen on the idea of an embrace. His voice stayed soft while he tried to make eye contact. "Is that why you came back for me?"

Her body remained rigid, her hazel gaze flicking up towards his to gauge the sincerity of his words. "Yes Bruce. I couldn't stand the idea of Ross mistreating you like that, especially after knowing all that he's already put you through. And I hated the fact that I was the one who betrayed you, without even giving it a second thought. I'm sorry Bruce, really," she bit her lip and hung her head, feeling tense over what his reaction could be. "I was wrong for blindly following orders. I don't plan on making the same mistakes again."

Bruce kept his gaze soft, smirking slightly. "Well, I give you credit for storming Ross's base. That took guts Natasha… thanks for helping me out there. I owe you."

The assassin couldn't help the small smile that flitted across her features at his tender words. "No Bruce, you don't owe me anything. I got red in my ledger; it's time I started wiping it out."

Bruce grinned in recognition of her comment, eyes lowered and a stray lock of hair over his forehead. "Well, thank you Natasha. I'm not sure I would've lasted if you hadn't helped me out."


	18. The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway

**Thank you ****readers one and all :)**

**RKF22: LOL well looks like you'll get part of your wish. Yes poor Bruce is tearing his hair out trying to keep Tony and Stephen from killing each other. This chapter should come as no surprise then ;)**

**Animation Imagination: I think you'll agree that the chapter title totally fits. Mwahahaha. **

Within the depths of the tower, located in one of the various labs and surrounded by all forms of technology that consistently beeped and buzzed, blinked, and even spoke to its handlers on occasion, a certain sorcerer was developing a headache. And his current companion, Tony Stark, wasn't improving the circumstances. Stephen did his best to ignore the annoying comments and cutting remarks, keeping his attention focused on the disc-like objects before him.

After retrieving the discs from the jet, Stephen had made sure they were thoroughly cleaned and disinfected to sate Stark's ridiculous 'fears', then proceeded to investigate how they worked. Stephen was familiar with technology and how it functioned, but that certainly didn't make him an expert on it. Which is why Tony was there. Some help he was turning out to be.

"Move away you're in my light," Stephen grumbled, once again nudging the engineer out of his personal space. With his hands Stephen was directing a mild form of energy towards the objects, but found that when the energy reached a certain distance it would warp around the discs, never once touching them. It was as if these inhibitors created some sort of antimatter shield, which blocked the flows of magic around them, forming a vacuum. Stephen rubbed at his temples, the ache in his head pounding steadily. He turned to his companion, or lab partner, "How would you explain this? Honestly it's like nothing I've ever seen before."

Tony crossed his arms sarcastically. "Well Mr. Magician can't even figure out what the hell was in his own hands. You tell me genius. Unless you really just don't belong in here. Let's be honest the mechanisms in this thing are so simple a kid could figure it out. And I would be able to figure it out too if you'd stop shoving me out of the way."

Narrowing his gaze, Stephen roughly gestured at the discs. "Fine then. Have a look. And I _know_ what they are and what they do," he said, glaring sharply. "What I want to know is how they work. How SHIELD was even able to design such things capable of restricting my magic. If it was even SHIELD's idea in the first place," he muttered.

Stark swallowed over his remark, roughly shoving Stephen from his way. "SHIELD- What does it matter who thought of it or who invented it…" Tony lifted an eyebrow. "You're accusing me aren't you? Look at those dark creepy eyes you're just waiting for the opportunity to see me slip up… Well good luck with that Stephendorf 'cause there's nothing you could do to outsmart me."

Stephen threw his hands in the air. "You know why I don't like working with you? This! This is why! You're such a child Stark! And of course I think it was you. Who else has the means and the tech to procure such abominations? You hate magic and you obviously hate me, wouldn't it be fun to try and take it all away?" he asked mockingly, anger rising like a tempest.

Tony slammed his open palm against the table, eyes wide with his tone antagonistic. He chuckled, "Oh I'm childish? How about we settle this right here, right now. No magic, no technology, just man to man. Huh? Huh?! Come on. What? Too scared? Know you got nothing on me? Or are you admitting that without your pixie dust you just can't handle yourself?"

Stephen's form was rigid, every muscle locked in place as he fought his mounting rage. He could kill Stark with his bare hands if he wanted to, and it would be only too easy. Just too easy. Stephen shook his head, saying quietly as he turned away, "It's not worth it Tony."

"Oh come on. You're more of a Tinkerbell than I originally thought…" Stark ground his teeth over one another, lifting an eyebrow almost deviously. "So you're just going to back down? Guess you're as weak as I thought you were."

"Back down Stark," Stephen said lowly, gaze dark and penetrating as he whirled back to face the other man. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. Just leave it be."

"So you're going to threaten me? Now I'm interested." Tony hopped onto the table, chuckling as he reached for a wristband to call his suit.

Stephen smirked and thrust out his hands, creating a shockwave that erupted in the room and blasted anything that was loose back into the walls, including Stark himself. Wrath in his gaze, he strode over to the fallen engineer, electricity crackling the air around them.

"I told you to back off," he growled. "This is your last chance."

Stark grumbled under his breath, startled by the thrust into the wall behind him. He stood up and called the arm piece of his suit, metal flying through the air and attaching itself to his outstretched limb. He scoffed and fired a repulsor blast. "Stephen! That's no way to treat your host."

Stephen ducked, narrowly avoiding the blast over his head. "And you think this is any way to treat a guest?! I'm surprised at you Stark." His hand wrapped around Tony's arm, jerking it down and away from his face while Stephen's remaining arm pinned Stark against the wall. His gaze bored into the other man's. "Do you yield?"

Tony growled, struggling to stay steady with Stephen's firm hold on him. "You get stranger and stranger every time we meet. You'll have to break me before I yield." The Iron Man called the rest his suit to him, pushing the sorcerer from off of him and shoving the man back.

"Fine. Have it your way," Stephen shot back. While Tony applied the rest of his armor Stephen backed up a safe distance, mind racing over his current options. He formed a shield around him just as the Iron Man got to his feet and took a menacing step towards him.

Tony fired his mechanisms, distracting Stephen enough to make the lunge and grip the sorcerer's wrists in a viselike hold. "Whatever you're thinking, don't even bother Stephen. You make one wrong move and you'll get the Hulk involved. And I'm pretty sure he'd take my side."

"We'd have to see about that," the sorcerer replied, using an energy blast to throw Tony's arms from off him and then created an invisible wall of energy, steadily pushing the man back. He wove a fastening spell around the suit, pinning Tony's arms to his sides. "Ready to give up?" he panted, feeling a tearing pain rip through his chest from the exertion.

"Alright! Alright! Enough already!" Tony yelled, his focus narrowing and tone changing out of pure frustration. "I _really_ don't like you."

Stephen immediately released his hold on Stark, lowering his arms and leaning into the wall. "Good, I can live with that." That had been easier than he'd thought, considering this was Stark he was dealing with.

Tony lingered in his position, eyes narrowing over the opportune moment. He lifted his arm casually, firing a forceful hit into the sorcerer to knock him from off his feet. Stark laughed shamelessly, flying towards him to kick him down.

"Alright Strange! Get up! Come on!" he goaded. "Come and get me!"

The breath was knocked from Stephen's lungs with Tony's kick. He lay there, seeing stars for a moment as he struggled to get air back in his lungs. Stephen shook his head, hand gripping at the counter as he hoisted himself up.

"Okay," he said, breathing evenly. "Let's do this again." Directing a heated energy force around his hand as a buffer, Stephen cocked a fist and sent it straight into Stark's armored face. The man went flying back into the wall and broken pieces of plaster rained down on him.

Tony growled, snarling with his teeth bared and pure agitation in his eyes. He stood up, determined to get revenge. "I've just about had enough of you Stephen! You wanna play? Let's play!"

"I thought you wanted a fair fight?" Stephen asked dryly, keeping himself at a distance while he mentally prodded at the mechanisms on the suit. He had to work _with_ the armor, not against it, for this to work…

Stark ran forward, armored hands gripping at Stephen's hands, his teeth clenched tightly. "SHIELD should've just chopped these bad boys off. Would be a lot easier to win without you acting like a wizard."

Anger flashed in Stephen's gaze, his light eyes turning a stormy grey of wrath. With a single command he forcibly blasted the man away from him, then with a cutting motion he pried the armor from off of Stark. The armor was then flung into a corner where it collapsed into a useless pile of junk. There. Now it was a fair fight. He stormed over to Stark's now defenseless form, grabbing him roughly by the lapels.

Tony squirmed in his weak predicament, swinging his feet in an attempt to kick the sorcerer away from him. His hands tugged at Strange, then he kneed him in the gut. "You're paying for that suit."

"I'm paying for a lot lately," Stephen muttered, sucking in a breath from Stark's underhanded move. He shoved Tony against the counter and kicked him back. "You should have left me alone Stark. It'd have been better if you had," he growled, gaze narrowed over his antagonist, his fists bunched at his sides as he briefly entertained the idea of ending Stark's existence here and now.

It would be so easy, so simple, to cut off his life energy, to rip it from him. The idea horrified Stephen and he stumbled back for a moment in shock at his thoughts.

Tony reached for his stray equipment, hurling it towards Stephen's head in an attempt to knock him unconscious. "I have to hand it to you, you're a bigger pain in the ass than I ever thought imaginable."

"You sure have a big mouth Tony. Try looking in the mirror once in awhile, that's where you should direct all your insults." Stephen took a deep breath, trying to keep his rage in check. He would NOT kill Stark this day. With all of his power he would. Not. Kill. Him. Stephen spread his hands, indicating that he was open for attack. "Alright Stark, you got what you wanted. No magic. No armor. Let's see how well you can fight- without throwing things." He smirked, lifting an eyebrow in derision.

Tony lowered his brows, leaping at the opportunity to throw a punch across his cheek. He tackled Strange to knock him into the ground, hands clenched as hard as possible around the man's throat.

…

Natasha smirked and nodded over Bruce's comment, keeping her attention focused on the dark-haired physicist and his soft words. Her head cocked slightly to the side, assassin's instincts tuning in when she thought she heard a crash from somewhere overhead. Her stomach immediately dropped out from under her, her eyes widening in realization. "Bruce… did you hear something? Sounded like it was up in the lab."

The doctor shut his eyes in apprehension, running a hand over his mouth. His facial response spelled out exasperation when he stood up to go check on his companions. "Sorry Miss Romanoff, I'll be right back," he mumbled. "I'd better get up there before someone gets killed."

Natasha laughed and stepped up beside him. "It's alright. Mind if I come with? Honestly I'd love to see them at each other's throats."

Bruce smirked and headed for the elevator, believing it to be the quicker way up. "Sure. Just don't stick around if I start to go green. Lord only knows what will happen..."

…

Stephen gasped, choking for air as Stark kept his grip around his neck. Black spots flitted over his vision, and a pounding started at the back of his head. His hands gripped Tony's arms in a vise, and using his knees he managed to flip Tony to the floor, jerking his chokehold off of him. Stephen punched him in the face and grappled Tony's arms to his sides, a growl of discontent ripping through his aching throat. Stark swung his legs around him, bending to gain the upper hand and flip Stephen back. Tony could taste the blood on his lip as he tugged his wrists free. He snarled, expressive eyes boiling with rage.

Stephen's head banged hard into the tile, hard enough that for a brief moment all went black. When he blinked and opened his eyes the next second it was to see Stark's enraged face looming over him, a hand gripping his shirtfront as a fist came right for him.

"Tony! What are you doing?!" Banner's voice stayed firm, tone changing slightly with a hint of green flickering in his typical brown eyes. He surveyed the damage, slowly clenching and unclenching his fists to calm himself back down. "What is going on?" he asked evenly, eyes closing in annoyance.

Tony growled, letting Stephen's head fall before standing up begrudgingly. "Your friend ruined my suit and my lab and I want him out."

Bruce shook his head in disbelief. "Can you knock it off? Both of you! Can't you put aside your differences for one hour? This is unbelievable."

Stephen pulled himself up to his knees, rubbing the back of his head wearily and then standing up. Every part of him ached, fresh bruises forming over the old ones that he still had from his encounter with SHIELD. He glanced between the two of them, and all his rage towards Stark suddenly evaporated and was replaced with revulsion. He'd almost killed this man, had actually wanted to! Swallowing thickly, Stephen quickly brushed past Bruce, briefly making eye contact with his red-haired companion as he stepped out the door.

Bruce shut his eyes for a moment, allowing Stephen to pass while he tried to mentally compose himself. He crossed his arms. "Alright Tony what happened. I was gone for 40 minutes."

"40 minutes of pure hell for me!" Tony griped, throwing his hands in the air. "That guy is unbelievable! And I just told you what happened," he said pointedly, crossing his arms and glaring. "Your 'friend' there just wrecked my stuff and I wasn't gonna take it. SHIELD was right for locking him up. It's where he belongs if you ask me."

Bruce lowered his eyebrows, speaking a little more softly now that things seemed to be calming down. "Don't talk like that Tony… come on he's going through a lot right now. You can't even give him a peaceful day and a half? Give me a break Stark."

Tony waved his hand dismissively. "Don't give me any of that. You weren't here so save it for later Banner."

Natasha stepped into the room, her hazel gaze glaring daggers at Stark. "Will you just shut the hell up? If you ask me I'm sure it was Tony's 'congenial' nature that did the trick." She turned to Bruce, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe Jarvis has the answers. Wonder if he got it on video."

Bruce shook his head and threw his hands up in surrender, mumbling towards Natasha with a green hue lighting his irises. "Forget it. I'm not even sure I care anymore. I just want to go back to some third-world nation and know nothing about anyone. I just don't get why you can't stop fighting for two minutes! You guys are worse than two toddlers!" He reached into his pocket to pull out a tissue, handing it to his friend. "Here, your lip is bleeding."

Tony snatched it from Bruce, shrugging slightly to show he was backing down. He wiped at his lip, frowning down at the crimson stain on the cloth. "Bastard," he muttered to himself. "Whatever. We just can't stand each other. No help there."

Bruce scoffed almost coldly. "Yeah I know that much. But _why_ can't you work with each other? I'm not saying you guys have to be best friends, just… cooperate. There's nothing that could possibly justify this sort of behavior."

Tony frowned, lips thinning to a line as he considered Bruce's words.

"Know what? Maybe you're right. There isn't any good reason for it. So why don't you go and take it up with him?! He's the cause of all our problems! Hell, from what I've heard you'd never have ended up with Ross if he had just gone with SHIELD willingly. Some friend you have there Bruce." A muscle jerked in Tony's jaw, his gaze narrowed in disgust.

"He didn't know. It's not Stephen's fault…" Bruce exhaled wearily, pinching between his brows. "Is there anything else you need? I'm going to talk to Stephen. Want to come Miss Romanoff? I wouldn't mind a witness."

Natasha crossed her arms, nodding over Bruce's offer. "Sure, I don't mind tagging along." She gave Stark another cutting look before turning to follow Bruce out the door.

…

Stephen had stormed into his current living quarters, slamming the door behind him with his form visibly shaking from anger and displeasure. He ran a hand through his hair, gaze searching wildly for an object he could destroy just for the pure sake of destroying something. He clenched his hands at his sides and forced his anger down. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, and an even worse feeling in his gut.

It was time. He couldn't stay here any longer, couldn't bear it if he had to. Stephen knew he'd spent too much time here as it was.

How could he have ever thought they'd accept him? They didn't understand that he was still a human being, one with cares and hurts just like the rest of them! They would never accept him for who he was. It didn't matter though. His life wasn't about being accepted. He'd known from the beginning that he was alone in this job.

First he would go and face Ross, hopefully to redirect the general's efforts towards SHIELD and get the focus off of Banner. Then he'd have to deal with SHIELD, and more importantly, Maria.

_'SHIELD was right for locking him up.'_ The harsh words echoed in his mind. Oh yes, he'd heard that part. He'd heard enough to know he wasn't wanted or needed here, that he'd be better off elsewhere. Well, Stephen supposed he'd be doing them a courtesy then by leaving. With a sigh the sorcerer created a portal and stepped through it. Within seconds he had vanished into thin air.

It's funny how some distance made everything seem small.


	19. Search

**A/N: Thank you readers! This is a short chapter but more's on it's way... Just have to figure out a few things... Enjoy!**

Bruce paced into the room where Stephen had been staying, knocking on the door while he mumbled, "Stephen? Doc it's me, it's Banner. Are you alright?" The physicist took a step back upon entrance, searching with more determination and slight confusion. "Oh you've got to be kidding me… Stephen? Tell me you're still in the tower…"

Natasha slowly followed Bruce into the room, her gaze shifting about to take in the neat yet barely touched living space. It was as if a ghost had stayed here, here and then gone without leaving a trace of his presence. She looked up to meet Banner's worried look.

"Bruce? Doesn't look like the doctor's in," she said quietly. "And I can't quite blame him for leaving," she added. "Tony's been treating him like crap since the day we came, of course he'd want to leave."

Banner shook his head, making eye contact with her. "I get that but why would he leave without telling me? I didn't hurt him." He ran a hand through his thick curls, pesky lock falling back into its place above his eyes. "I have no idea where to look next. I know where he lives though… do you think maybe he'd go after Hill?"

Natasha shrugged, glancing away distractedly. "I don't know… frankly I don't know Stephen well enough to say anything for certain. Does he strike you as that type of person?" She paced around the room, subconsciously looking for clues, anything that could give them an idea of what Stephen might be doing or where he'd gone.

Bruce contorted his mouth, thinking over what he knew of the reclusive sorcerer. "He's no quitter, that's for sure. Unless he headed back home, but I seriously doubt it…"

"We might as well check," Natasha sighed, having found nothing as far as clues or helpful information. "You up for an afternoon stroll?"

Sighing, Bruce nodded and smirked over her choice of words in reference to searching for his companion. "Sure."

The red-head hesitated in the doorway, eyes searching over the empty room one more time. Something was bugging her…

"Wait! Jarvis might have something!" she gestured Bruce back over to her. "Jarvis, before Dr. Strange left did he say anything, perhaps where he might be going? Anything at all would be helpful." It was a long shot, but if it helped Bruce in any way possible Natasha figured it was worth it.

There was a short period of silence, in which she was left wondering if asking the computer for help was such a good idea…

"No Miss Romanoff," Jarvis's crisp British voice replied, sounding almost bored. "I have searched my most recent records of your mysterious friend and, other than the fight with Mr. Stark, I have nothing of import to indicate his whereabouts. Dr. Strange did not speak to me very often, and as it is I don't believe he generally talks out loud to himself anyways. I may be many things, Miss Romanoff, however I am not a mind reader. There are no further records on Dr. Stephen Strange."

Natasha groaned, inwardly suppressing her frustration with the AI and his obvious snark. Bruce narrowed his focus towards the walls, disgusted with Stark's creation. His hand gently reached for her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down some. "It's pointless Miss Romanoff, he's just as bad as his creator."

"I heard that Dr. Banner," the AI chirped, sounding pleased with himself.

Natasha growled in her throat and gave the disembodied voice her middle finger to show what she thought of that. "You're right Bruce. This is Tony's mess and he should be the one cleaning it up," she huffed, frowning.

"Easy Miss Romanoff, it's just an Artificial Intelligence." Bruce tapped her shoulder, hoping to get her calmed down. "He should get this straightened out but we know he won't. Now I'm stuck with this disaster… Jarvis did Stephen mention anything to Tony while they were fighting?" he wrung at his fingers, head pounding from frustration.

"Perhaps it would be easier if I showed you the entire video. That might be more informative," Jarvis suggested blandly. "I can have it pulled up in the common room right away Dr. Banner."

He nodded almost carelessly. "Yeah sure. Thanks." He turned to head back downstairs for the common room, glancing over his shoulder to see the red-head behind him. "I knew since this morning something was bound to happen, I shouldn't have left them alone."

Natasha didn't have a reply for that, though secretly she'd been thinking the same thing this entire time. Knowing Stark… something was always bound to happen. The assassin pursed her lips, trailing behind Bruce as they made their way down to the living room.

When they reached the room Bruce shoved his hands in his pockets and waited the space of two seconds before saying, "Alright Jarvis, I'm waiting."

Almost all on its own, a screen flashed on and a video pulled up, set from a corner of the room and viewed from above. The scene moved in fast motion up until a certain point, where the camera slowed and resumed its normal pace, with Stephen and Tony working in the room. Stephen was situated at the counter, working on something at the table, while Stark kept moving in and out of his space. A second later and the sound came on, the volume rising some so the viewers could hear what was being said.

"I believe this is the point where all the trouble started," Jarvis stated.

Bruce shook his head as he watched the footage play out, mumbling under his breath with a hand over his mouth. "Worse than children…" he narrowed his focus over any movement between his friends, listening carefully to their heated bickering. He shifted his weight slightly while he watched, anger still slowly simmering just below the surface.

"Wait…" Natasha's gaze narrowed over something she'd heard. She tilted her head towards Bruce. "Did it sound like Stephen just accused Tony there?" she couldn't help hearing a second later Tony's obnoxious suggestion about Stephen wanting to kill him. Natasha pressed a hand to her face, muttering a swear in Russian.

Bruce sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he stood up, beginning to pace out of restlessness. "I don't know. Tony?! Jarvis where's Tony? Call him up here please."

"Don't bother I'm already here," the engineer drawled as he sauntered into the room, a dark scowl on his face, he held up a finger warningly. "Though if you're going to lecture me I might as well walk out of the room now." He glanced towards the screen and a slight smirk ghosted his features, almost fondly remembering the fight that had ensued.

Bruce set his mouth in a disciplinary manner. "And you're proud of yourself aren't you? Tony I just want some answers. Stephen's done a lot for me and having him storm off without my knowledge is a little distressing-"

Tony held up a hand. "Wait wait wait, he _left_? As in, he's gone? Outta here?" he laughed. "Huh. Was easier to run him off than I thought. What makes you think he wants you to come after him? I say leave him be, let him stew."

"No Tony! I'm not going to just 'let him stew'! You think that's healthy? Is that what you'd want me to do for you?!" Bruce exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "You're obviously both at fault, but you're here and he isn't. I need you to just tell me what's going on."

"He was being a pain in the ass!" Tony said defensively, gesturing with his hand in dismissal. "You've got the footage just watch that! You'll see!"

"Tony I get it, I see that. But don't you think you could have been a little less sarcastic? For goodness sake I'd rather deal with Thor and his midnight rituals." Bruce collapsed into the sofa behind him, hands over his face while he mentally mapped out every location he could think of to search for Strange. "Look Tony, I want to find him. I have no idea what SHIELD wants with him and I can't just let him struggle on his own. I'd do the same for you Stark, you know that." He sat up slowly, then got to his feet to head towards the elevator. "I'm taking that stroll Miss Romanoff. You don't have to come if you don't want to, but I wouldn't mind the company."

"No I'm out of here. Let me grab a jacket Bruce, and I'll meet you outside." Natasha roughly pushed past Stark on her way out.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh come on. So I'm the bad guy now? Just cause I kicked some sorcerer ass today? You gotta be kidding me!"

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "And when I see Strange he's getting a lecture too. You're both grounded." On that final note he turned and left for the elevator, closing his eyes and breathing evenly as he made his way to the ground floor to wait for the red-head.


End file.
